Susurration
by Patrice J
Summary: The Doctor, Tegan, and Turlough land in the middle of a planet's civil war, which leads them into unexpected sources of danger.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: The characters from "Doctor Who" are, of course, the BBC's; I am merely borrowing them.

_Note:_ This story is set shortly after "Terminus."

Chapter 1

In a dense, still wood shrouded in brume, a small, furry mammal sniffed about the leaf-strewn floor, foraging for tender, green growth beneath the decaying layer of leaves. The animal's short ears twitched upward, and its nose quivered instinctually at the impending intrusion. With a final sniff beneath a sienna leaf, the animal bounded away before the larger creatures neared.

Two men stumbled past the trees, their arms locked around each other. Both men kicked and clawed viciously, each trying to extricate himself from the other's grasp. They cursed and yelled, their voices echoing through the woods. One of the men managed to twist around and pin his auburn-haired opponent against a tree, moving his arm up to press against the other's neck. The trapped man's hands reached up in an attempt to pry the other's arm from his throat, his breath coming in short gasps. He kicked his feet in vain as his captor stepped sideways. Finally, in a moment of clarity, the pinned man allowed his arms to drop, and he stilled. His hand reached downward as he lifted his foot to withdraw a dagger from his boot. The forest swam before his eyes; he could not draw breath any longer. But his target was directly before him, his blond hair glowing in a singular beam of sunlight. With the last of his faltering strength, the redhead thrust the dagger upward. He felt it slow then stop as it plunged into the other man's chest, sliding between his ribs to the hilt. He twisted it once then pulled it free.

The injured man gasped and stepped back, staring in awe at the blood that spread darkly over his sorrel-colored jerkin. He pressed his hand over the wound and sank to the ground.

His opponent, quickly recovering once released from the stranglehold, looked at the dagger in his fist. He could see that it had sunk in deeply; the other man was mortally wounded. He would survive less than an hour, and he would surely suffer during his last minutes.

The bearer of the dagger wiped the weapon over the leaves to remove some of the blood then stuck it back into his boot. He gave the other man a sharp kick in the ribs, directly over the wound, and smiled at the deep moan this action elicited.

As he turned to walk away, he spat on his opponent. "You won't tell them of our plans now. Your people are defeated. The King will have the south country!" He sauntered away toward his compatriots camped some ten kilometers away, his laugh ringing out through the woods.

The injured man lay back against the leaves; they rustled dryly with his slight writhing movements. Tears welled in his eyes as he pulled a torn sheet of parchment from his pocket. The ink was smudged, and his fingers left red streaks across the coarse fibers, but most of the words were still legible. He clasped the parchment tightly against his chest. There was no one to help him, no one to deliver this crucial message to his companions. He was utterly alone.

He closed his eyes and prepared to die.

A grinding wheeze startled the birds from their perches in the trees. A flutter of wings palpitated through the air even after the wheezing noise had ceased. In a clearing in the woods a steel blue British police box stood among the tall evergreens. After a minute, the door opened, and a young man with red hair stepped out.

"It seems nice enough," he commented, turning slightly to address his blond companion, who poked out his head.

"Yes, it does. If I'm not mistaken, we should find the Rudarian rose bush about half a kilometer to the south."

"And this flower is really worth a trip through two galaxies?"

"To Tegan, Turlough, I believe it will be."

"If you say so, Doctor," Turlough replied rather disinterestedly. "It's this direction, you say?"

"Yes. I'll just fetch Tegan, and we'll be on our way." The Doctor stepped back inside the TARDIS.

Tegan knelt on the floor in her room. A large box lay in front of her, and several small objects were scattered at her feet. She placed a folded, burgundy velvet shirt at the bottom of the box with a melancholy sigh.

"Tegan," the Doctor said cheerfully from the doorway, "we've arrived."

She looked up. "All right." She did not stand but instead reached for another item.

"We haven't much time here—we'll need to walk to the rose bush and return to the TARDIS within an hour or so."

"Tell me the reason for the hurry again?" she asked languidly.

"The rose bush is considered sacred to the inhabitants of Rudaria. At dusk groups of pilgrims gather before it. While they are not hostile to visitors, I feel that it would be best for us to admire the rose's beauty without an audience. Its effect will be more enjoyable in relative private."

"It must be some rose," Tegan mused. "You've never taken us to see a plant before."

The Doctor smiled cryptically. "This one is worth the trip. Come along."

She stood and followed him out the doorway. In a minute they joined Turlough outside the TARDIS. He had wandered several feet away to rest his hand against a mossy tree trunk. When he saw his companions, he commented, "I've never seen moss quite like this before."

The Doctor glanced at the tree. "Those are lichens, actually. The flora here is exceptionally rich due to a high concentration of minerals in the soil. The moist atmosphere contributes as well. Those are two reasons for the rose's grandeur."

"There are leaves everywhere," Tegan said, noting that her feet were covered in several inches of discarded foliage. The gentle stirring of wind against voluptuous branches made a whispering sound that seemed to brush almost tangibly against her ears.

As Tegan listened, she could hear many small noises from the forest. Leaves shifted underfoot, the top layer swept along by the breeze. Branches rubbed and swayed, their needles scratching against bark. The air seemed filled with the whispers of the woods. For a moment the noise was almost overwhelming.

"It's awfully loud here," she said with a shake of her head, touching her temple just above her ear.

"Loud?" asked the Doctor. "I find it rather peaceful."

He began to walk; Tegan and Turlough followed closely behind. After a few minutes, however, Tegan's steps slowed as she paused to admire some wild violets that appeared to be scattered over the leafy ground. Upon closer inspection, she found that they grew through the dead leaves, their petals resting on the carpet of foliage. The flowers were a vibrant shade of purple with golden centers.

Tegan gazed at the richly colored blossoms for a moment. Suddenly she glanced up. Something had passed by, several feet to her left and just outside her line of vision. She blinked then looked toward the left. She saw only trees. Perhaps she had glimpsed a swaying branch or a shadow.

Turlough glanced back to see that Tegan was several yards behind them. "Come on, Tegan!" he called.

The Doctor looked at the young woman, too. "It's all right, Turlough. Let her enjoy the flowers. A few moments of pleasure will be good for her."

"She really misses Nyssa, doesn't she?"

"Yes. They became quite close."

"And you really think that seeing this rose will make her feel happier?"

"It is reputed to have that effect on people."

"Surely you of all people don't believe in magic."

"Magic? No. But visual and olfactory stimulation can and do affect the emotional center of the brain. The colors and scents of this particular rose have long been known to have calming effects on the individuals who see and smell it. It is said to bring a sense of peace to those in its presence." He glanced at Tegan once more. "She has undergone some very difficult experiences recently. While Nyssa was with us, she was a calming presence for Tegan. Now I believe that Tegan needs something else to help center her emotions. The image of this rose may be one that she can carry with her and reflect upon during difficult times."

Some yards away, the dying man lay among the leaves. He still clutched the parchment to his chest, breathing raggedly and shallowly as his blood continued to flow from the wound. The woods were quiet. The animals and birds seemed to know that death was imminent, and they had fled the area. The man's thoughts were hazy in the stillness. A small noise, however, drew his faltering attention. He listened, forcing his diminishing senses to focus. He heard vague voices somewhere beyond the towering trees that surrounded him. With the last of his rapidly waning strength, he called out.

"Help." His voice was barely a whisper. He repeated the word, over and over, as if chanting a sacred prayer, although he knew that no one could hear him.

As Tegan stood with a violet in her hand, she was again aware of the many noises surrounding her. Now she heard small animals moving about and the gentle flutter of birds' wings overhead. The wind still caressed the leaves, and their dried brethren crunched under her feet. But there was another sound, a distant whisper that barely registered in her senses. She stood very still, listening with closed eyes.

"Doctor!" she called after a moment. "Someone's calling for help!"

The Doctor and Turlough turned to see her walking toward a more densely wooded area to her left. "In here," she said, ducking under a branch.

"Tegan, wait," the Doctor cried, but she had disappeared among the trees.

A minute later, they heard her frantic voice. "Doctor! Hurry!"

The Doctor and Turlough ran forward to find Tegan sitting on the ground next to a prone figure. The Doctor bent toward the man. His skin was ashen, and his jerkin was saturated in blood. The Doctor pulled back to garment to view the wound then pressed his hand over the man's heart .

"You have to help him!" Tegan said. "He's badly hurt—"

"Yes," responded the Doctor, "he is." His eyes met Tegan's, and he shook his head.

"But we could take him back to the TARDIS—" she began.

"We're too late. There's nothing that can be done now."

The man had appeared unconscious, but now his eyes opened. He squinted at the three faces that seemed to hover over him.

"Do you support the king?" he whispered.

"We are visitors here," replied the Doctor. "We support no one in particular."

"Help me," the man panted.

Tegan took his hand and looked up at the Doctor with pleading eyes.

The Doctor moved his hand to the man's shoulder to clasp it lightly. "We'll do whatever we can to make you comfortable."

"No," the man murmured, "not for me. I'm going to die; you can't help that. But you can help my people." He lifted his hand from the leaves. He still held the parchment. "Take it," he urged Tegan.

She grasped it with her fingers.

"It must… go to my… people. The attack—they cannot survive it. They… must… know." His eyes closed.

The Doctor leaned over to read the words. Turlough asked, "What does it say?"

"This seems to be a warning," the Doctor said, taking the paper from Tegan. "Was it written today?"

Thewounded fellownodded weakly.

"It describes an attack that will take place the day after tomorrow," the Doctor replied.

"Yes," the man whispered; his voice was barely audible. "Take it to… them. Warn them. Please."

"Who is going to attack?" asked Tegan.

The man shook his head slowly. He did not seem to possess the energy to speak.

"Where are your people?" asked the Doctor.

The man pointed a shaking finger at the paper. The Doctor turned it over to find a rough sketch on the back. "We… are… here," the man gasped out. "Go… there." He touched the paper; his finger left a spot of red on the top of the ecru parchment.

The Doctor began to straighten, but he bent in again to ask, "What year is it?"

The man's lips moved, but Tegan could not hear what he said. The Doctor, however, sat upright, muttering, "Oh no."

"What is it?" asked Tegan darkly. "I've heard that expression too many times before."

"I'm afraid," said the Doctor, "that we have arrived in the midst of this planet's civil war."

"Doctor!" Tegan admonished.

He shrugged. "I had forgotten about it. We should have landed in 1983 Terran time. The TARDIS seems to have a slight glitch, perhaps another tempermental solenoid—"

"When doesn't it?" Tegan grumbled.

Suddenly the man's hand gripped the Doctor's lapel as he pulled the Time Lord downward. "Please," he hissed, "tell me… you'll deliver the message… to them."

The Doctor wrapped his fingers around the man's arm gently. "It's all right. We will."

The man drew one deep breath, then he seemed to sink back into the leaves.

"Is he gone?" asked Tegan.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes."

"Poor man," she said. Her gaze wandered to the note in the Doctor's hand. "What are you going to do about that?"

The Time Lord lifted the parchment. "I suppose we shall have to deliver it."

"Wait a minute, Doctor," Turlough protested. "We can't just go traipsing off through a battle zone because a stranger asked us to. We have no idea who this man was or what his motives were."

The Doctor considered this for a moment. "That is not entirely true. Prior to arriving here, I briefly reviewed the history of the planet. The civil war involved two factions, one seeking to keep the planet's seven kingdoms united under a system of representative government, the other striving to establish a dictatorship for a ruler who wanted to control all of the kingdoms. His followers fought against those who opposed him."

He pointed at the fallen man's jerkin. On the breast was a rose embroidered in gold thread. "If I am not mistaken, this symbol represents the unified planet."

"A rose?" asked Tegan.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. The rose bush that we have come to see symbolizes a united planet, one in which each part relies upon the others yet has its own identity."

"So this man is with the group that wants to stay united," Turlough said. "How do we know that he's in the right?"

"We can't know for certain," replied the Doctor. "However, I do know that at the end of the war the planet will remain united; the dictator's troops will be defeated. Eventually this will be a very peaceful planet."

"So," said Tegan, "I'm guessing that you think we need to deliver this message to be sure that the dictator doesn't win, right?"

The Doctor looked away for a moment, then he responded, "I'm not certain that our arrival here at this precise time was a coincidence or due to a malfunction with the TARDIS."

"Oh no," Tegan said with some cynicism, "and it certainly wasn't a programming error."

The Doctor gave her a brief dark glance but then changed his tack. "Regardless of how we managed to arrive here, it seems that we are obliged to try to offer our help. After all, we did promise this man that we would."

Tegan sighed. She had hoped to see the rose bush and be back in her room in the TARDIS within an hour. She wanted to finish packing Nyssa's things. Having them all in plain view was a constant reminder of how much she missed her friend. "Where do we have to go?" she asked tiredly.

The Doctor studied the parchment. "Hmm," he pointed at the red smudge, "if the camp that we need to reach is here, then I should think that we need to go in this direction." He stood and turned half-way.

"And how can you tell that?" asked Tegan dubiously.

"From the rose, Tegan," the Doctor answered, holding out the paper to her.

She could see now, as she stood, that a simple flower was sketched in the center of the rough map. Above it appeared triangular shapes that she supposed represented mountains, and below it lay arches that could indicate hills. Some squiggly lines might denote streams or rivers; she was not sure.

"So you know where the rose is from right here," she said, sweeping her hand out toward the trees. "But how do you know which way these mountains are?" She nodded toward the paper.

"At the moment, I don't," the Doctor replied. "But once we have found the rose, we shall be able to orient ourselves appropriately."

"How far away is this camp?" asked Turlough.

"If this map is drawn to scale," said the Time Lord, "I believe that it is about eight kilometers. If we start now, we should be able to reach it shortly after dark."

"Doctor," Tegan interjected, looking down at the deceased man, "what about him?"

"I'm afraid that we haven't time to bury him," the Doctor said somberly. "We shall have to leave him. Perhaps his companions can return here to give him a proper burial according to their customs." He began walking, adding, "Come along. We really haven't any time to spare."

The three walked away, Tegan glancing back once at the dead man. As she looked at the soldier's face, framed in a corona of blond hair, a subtle movement caught her eye. Immediately she looked up; a shadow passed the corner of her eye. When she turned her head in its direction, she saw only the trees.

"Did you see that?" she asked as she joined the Doctor and Turlough.

"What?" responded the Doctor.

"I thought I saw something—someone—out there." She pointed toward the woods.

The Doctor's eyes scanned the trees, and he listened intently for a few seconds before saying, "I don't see or hear anything. Turlough?"

The young man shook his head. "No. It was probably just a shadow or an animal."

"Maybe," Tegan replied slowly.

"Nevertheless," the Doctor added, "there may be soldiers, possibly even guerrillas, out here—someone did kill this man. We must be cautious."

"Great," muttered Tegan. "We come to see a rose and get stuck in the middle of a war."

The Doctor did not respond to this. Instead, he said, "Come along."

The three began walking briskly, returning to the area where they had landed then heading toward the rose. They had walked for thirty minutes when they heard voices. The Doctor stopped and held a finger to his lips. Snippets of conversation were audible.

"… right flank… after sunset…"

"… across the hill… they're going to camp…"

"… this way… scout spotted a group of Briars…"

The voices seemed to move closer; they could hear the conversation more clearly.

"Briars?" Tegan whispered to the Doctor.

"The faction wishing to remain united," he said softly, then he added, "Sshh. Come on." He swerved toward a particularly thick copse of trees to the right. Tegan and Turlough followed closely.

A fallen tree lay across the ground. Its branches, although decaying, were still thick enough to provide some cover for the Doctor, Tegan, and Turlough. They crouched behind the tree, peering out among the dried leaves.

After a few minutes, a group of a dozen or so men emerged from the woods to their right. They wore deep blue tunics and carried shields and spears. Most had a sword or dagger hanging at his waist as well. The soldiers all had similar coloring: coppery red hair and fair skin. The older men had short beards. While not excessively tall, all appeared sturdy and strong.

As they neared the fallen tree, the Doctor pushed Turlough and Tegan down, ducking himself to disappear beneath the branches. They listened to the continued conversation of the soldiers.

"He said they were this way."

"How many?"

"Six, seven maybe."

"They're a long way from the main camp."

"Far enough that no one's going to hear us kill them."

"Do you think they'll try to surrender, like the group yesterday?"

"Doesn't matter, does it? We'll still kill every one of them."

Several rough chuckles followed this comment. Tegan suddenly felt cold and fought the urge to shiver.

The group neared the fallen tree, their feet crunching through the leaves on the ground. Tegan could smell the earthy muskiness of their bodies as they approached. The tree provided an adequate hiding place for a casual glance; however, if any of the soldiers should look down, the three visitors would most certainly be visible.

Tegan held her breath when the men stopped directly before the tree. One said, "This is a good spot for camp."

Something hit the fallen tree and made the trunk vibrate slightly. A sharp snap caused Tegan to look at the booted foot directly in front of her. The soldier had stepped on a cluster of withered leaves. A faint dust began to rise around his foot. An acrid smell prickled in Tegan's nose and throat; she felt a distinct urge to cough. She swallowed repeatedly, her eyes filling with tears in her efforts to remain silent. Her throat was burning now.

"Lots of wood. Let's return here after we take them."

A few acknowledgements of agreement were given as the men began walking away.

Tegan, Turlough, and the Doctor remained very still for several minutes. Thankfully, the burning in Tegan's throat was subsiding. As she glanced at her companions, she saw that they appeared similarly affected. Finally, as the voices died away, the Doctor rose with a cough, saying, "We need to leave this area."

Turlough and Tegan were each consumed with a small coughing fit.

"Too right," agreed Tegan huskily after a minute. "That was much too close for my taste." She pointed at the crushed leaves. "What are those?"

"It appears to be of the genus valeracopaea. The oils in the leaves are particularly irritating to the mucous membranes. When dried, they form miniscule, barbed crystals that attach to the mucosa and—"

"That's more than I need to know," Tegan interrupted.

The Doctor appeared somewhat peeved at his companion's lack of interest in his lecture. "You might be glad to know that the effects are only temporary. The crystals dissolve once they are exposed for a few minutes to the moisture in the mucosa," he finished.

Tegan coughed again. "Those soldiers could have been your cousins, Turlough."

The Trion shook his head. "Well, they're certainly not," he retorted.

"I know that. I just meant that you look a lot like them." Tegan's eyes scanned the woods. "Which way is the TARDIS?"

"Are we going back?" asked Turlough.

"To the TARDIS?" said the Doctor. "No. We need to locate the Briars' main camp before nightfall."

"You're not seriously considering still trying to deliver the message?" Tegan exclaimed.

"Of course I am," replied the Doctor.

"But Doctor!" she protested, "if those soldiers had seen us—"

"But they didn't, did they?"

The Time Lord's calm manner was particularly irritating to Tegan; she still felt slightly shaky from the encounter with the soldiers.

"But there are people fighting out there!" she said. "We could walk right into the middle of a battle."

"Then we will have to be extra cautious, won't we?" responded the Doctor.

Tegan crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't like this one bit. I have a bad feeling—"

"Yes," said the Doctor, "this is a bad situation. You heard those soldiers say that they would kill the Briars even if they surrendered. That is bordering on anomie."

"Anomie?" repeated Tegan.

The Doctor was staring off in the direction the men had gone. "Hmm? Yes—the breakdown of cultural norms. I'm afraid that if the Briars lose this war, the planet will be plunged into a very dark time."

"But you said the Briars were going to win," Tegan reminded him.

"That was before our arrival here," said the Doctor. "If we do not deliver this message as promised, history could very well change."

"You still think that's why we're here?" asked Turlough.

The Doctor nodded gravely. "The more I learn about this war, the more I believe that our presence here is no accident."

Deeper in the woods, from the direction in which the soldiers had gone, faint shouts could be heard.

Tegan asked, "Are they fighting?"

"Yes," replied the Doctor simply. "Let's go."

He turned and began moving quickly through the tall trees. As they walked, Tegan was again aware of the numerous sounds in the forest. The lofty branches shielded the floor from most of the wind that swept overhead; however, the movement of the leaves made a whispering that resembled voices. Several times Tegan almost believed that she could make out words. She shook her head, muttering, "Stop imagining things."

"Pardon me?" the Doctor asked.

"What?" responded Tegan.

"I thought you said something."

"No, Doctor, it was nothing important."

They continued walking. After a time, Turlough said, "Shouldn't we be near the rose by now?"

The Doctor paused. "Yes. It should be just through those evergreens." He gestured slightly to the right.

"Finally," said Tegan. "I'm ready to see something that isn't a tree."

They stepped ahead, but all they found were more trees. There was no sign of the rose bush.

"Hmm," the Doctor muttered. "I really thought it was this way." He looked about.

"You've gotten us lost, haven't you?" Tegan reproved.

"No," replied the Time Lord. "I have noted on which side of the trees the lichens grow and used that as a guide to our direction. Our detour to avoid the soldiers must have taken us slightly off course." He looked up through the trees at the sky. "Unfortunately, this leaves us less time than anticipated to reach the Briars' main encampment. We still need to find in which direction the mountains lie. I had hoped to be able to see them from the rose bush; it is in a clearing, on a rise. However, our best course now may be to search for the mountains in a different way."

Without another word, the Doctor reached for the lowest branch of the nearest tree then swung himself up. Tegan and Turlough watched as he climbed nimbly from branch to branch, finally reaching the top. He stood for a moment then began to descend.

"Well?" Tegan called up to him.

He looked down. Tegan could just see his face among the high branches; he was smiling. "The mountains," he said, "lie in this direction." He removed his right hand from the branch he gripped to point. "There are four mountains," he continued, moving his foot down to a lower branch," and the diagram shows the camp at the base directly in the middle of them—"

A loud, sudden crack caused Tegan to twitch. The branch on which the Doctor had placed his foot snapped. He slipped, trying to keep his hold on the branch he had gripped with his left hand. He reached for a nearby limb with his right hand, but it slid from his grasp as he continued to plunge downward.

"Doctor!" Tegan cried, watching in horror as his body fell through the branches. His arms flailed outward.

Turlough grabbed Tegan's shoulders and pulled her back as the Doctor landed on the ground just beyond her feet. He lay without moving. His eyes were closed.

Tegan and Turlough knelt beside him.

"Is he all right?" asked Turlough anxiously.

"Does he look all right?" Tegan touched the Time Lord's cheek. "Doctor!" she said, patting at him lightly. Her eyes ran over his face. A dark spot just above his hairline near his right ear caught her attention. She watched for a moment as blood seeped into his light hair.

"He's hit his head," she said, touching the spot gingerly.

"But he's still alive?" Turlough's tone was slightly skeptical.

Tegan pressed her hands against his chest. "Yes. Both hearts are beating."

"Has he broken anything?"

"I don't know!" she snapped. A torrent of panic began to well up in her, but she forced herself to quell it. She closed her eyes to think. "I'm not sure if I can tell," she said, finally.

She ran her hands over the Doctor's arms and shoulders; nothing seemed out of place to her. She felt gently along the back of his head and down his neck, then moved her hands over his torso and down his legs. She recalled something about broken bones affecting circulation, so she checked the pulses in his wrists and ankles. They seemed steady enough to her.

Tegan leaned back on her heels, pressing her hands to her thighs. "I don't think anything's broken—at least not that I can tell."

Turlough's expression showed some surprise. "I didn't know you knew anything about medicine," he said.

She shrugged. "I don't know much, but I did have some basic first aid training once."

"So what do we do now?"

"We have to wait for him to wake."

"How long will that be?"

"I don't know, Turlough. I have no way of telling that. If he's got a concussion, he could be unconscious for some time. On the other hand, he's a Time Lord, and what little I know about concussions may not apply to him at all."

Turlough was looking about. "I don't like the idea of just sitting out here. Those soldiers, or another group, could come by at any time."

Tegan nodded. "You're right. We should try to find some sort of shelter where the Doctor can rest, and we'll be out of sight as much as possible. I'll stay here with him; you take a look around. See if you can find anywhere that's secluded."

Turlough rose and walked away. The Doctor lay before Tegan, very still and quiet. A trickle of blood had begun to drip down his cheek. Tegan found a handkerchief in his coat pocket and wiped the blood away.

"Doctor," she said, "you'd better wake up soon. I have no idea what else to do for you."

Suddenly she was struck with a disturbing thought: If his injuries were too severe, he would have to regenerate. That would leave him weak and disoriented for some time. She did not want to consider how she and Turlough would deal with such an event should it occur in the midst of a war zone.

Again she was aware of the whispers of the woods. As the sun lowered in the sky high above, deep shadows began to cover the forest floor. Tegan felt chilled and alone as she sat next to the unconscious Time Lord.


	2. Chapter 2

Turlough returned after fifteen minutes, saying, "It's all just trees and forest. I can't find any caves or even rocks out here."

Tegan sighed. "All right," she said after a moment, "here's what we have to do. We need to build a shelter out of branches. We'll find a tree with low-hanging limbs and place branches around them. That way we'll be sort of camouflaged, at least to a passing glance. And once it gets dark, we should be well hidden."

"So we need full branches," Turlough finished, already reaching for the one that the Doctor's fall had broken off. He extended his hand for another from the same tree, but Tegan stopped him.

"No," she said, "don't use more than one from a single tree. We don't want it to look obvious that we've taken them."

Turlough gave her a curious look but quickly returned to his task. Tegan stood and surveyed the area. About five yards away she saw a relatively short, lush tree with limbs that grew only a few feet up the trunk. She pointed, saying, "That one."

Turlough took the branches to the tree and began arranging them to form a three-sided shelter. To a casual glimpse, the added branches simply appeared to be an extension of the lower limbs. When Turlough had finished, he returned to Tegan. Together the young man and woman lifted the Doctor and moved him to the shelter. He still did not stir, even as they lay him on the bed of leaves beneath the dense limbs.

Once the Doctor was settled, Tegan and Turlough sat beside him and placed branches on the fourth side of the simple structure to enclose it completely. Tegan looked down at the Time Lord. He was so still. She rested her hand against his chest again to feel the slow but steady beating of both hearts.

"So what now?" asked Turlough.

Tegan shrugged. "We wait. There's nothing else we can do."

Tegan and Turlough spoke infrequently as they sat beside their companion. Neither wanted to create any unnecessary noises that could be heard by passing soldiers. Both became immersed in their own thoughts as darkness descended over the woods.

Very little light reached the inside of the shelter. A nearly full moon overhead bathed the trees in silver, but beneath the cover of branches neither Turlough nor Tegan could see more than a vague outline of the other.

Leaning against the sturdy, lichen-covered trunk of the tree, Tegan's eyelids grew heavy. She intended to remain awake and vigilant throughout the night, but eventually she began to doze. The movement of the branches seemed to whisper a subtle lullaby to her. She could almost make out the words if she just concentrated a bit more…

"Tegan!"

The young Australian jerked to alertness. "What?" she asked, suppressing a yawn.

"He's waking up, I think."

Tegan's eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dimness, and she could just discern the Doctor's fuzzy form near her right hand. She reached out to rest her fingers on his shoulder, leaning in toward him as she did.

"Doctor?" she asked cautiously.

"Tegan?" came the drowsy reply.

"Am I glad to hear your voice!" she said with a smile.

"I don't know. Are you?" the Doctor asked in some confusion.

"It's been hours—of course I am!"

"Hours?" The Doctor sat upright.

"Yes, Doctor," she told him. "You've been unconscious for a long time."

"Unconscious? I don't remember that."

"Of course not! You were unconscious! You fell from the tree and hit your head."

The Doctor was silent for a moment. His hand moved up to touch his temple. "So I did."

"Are you all right?" asked Turlough. "Tegan didn't think you'd broken anything."

The Doctor moved his arms and legs and rotated his head. After a moment, he replied, "Tegan was right. Nothing appears out of place."

"How is your head?" asked Tegan. "You must have hit it pretty hard."

"Hmm, yes," he said, running his fingers more carefully over the small lump that had formed above his ear. "Fortunately there's no permanent damage. Gallifreyans have rather thick craniums."

"You don't say," Tegan commented archly.

The Doctor looked around him then reached out to touch one of the branches. "Exactly where are we?"

"We're still in the woods," Turlough answered. "I built a shelter beneath one of the trees with low-hanging branches."

"Excellent thinking, Turlough," complimented the Doctor.

"Actually, it was Tegan's idea," he admitted.

"Really?"

"You don't have to sound so surprised!" Tegan huffed.

The Doctor parted two of the branches with his hands and peered outside. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"It's been dark for several hours," said Turlough.

The Doctor nodded. "We should remain here until morning. It's not safe to travel in the dark, particularly without knowing in which direction we're going. As long as we reach the Briars' camp tomorrow, the message should reach them in time."

Tegan yawned again.

"You may as well sleep," the Doctor said. "Tomorrow may be a long day. Try to get some rest while you can, both of you."

Tegan nodded and leaned back against the tree. She heard Turlough settling back on the other side of the trunk. The leaves continued to stir overhead, and soon their soft sounds turned to whispered lullabies once more. Tegan's eyes closed, and she slept.

Tegan sat alone in the midst of towering trees. Sunlight filled the forest, washing warmth and cheer over her. She did not mind that she was by herself; the sunshine was bright, and she felt free to think her own thoughts. She breathed deeply and lifted her face to the light. She was warm, caressed by the sun, surrounded by twittering birds in the trees.

She had her eyes closed against the brightness of the sunshine, but the light still seemed to fill her. Her mind seemed to open, to expand outward beyond the forest, undulating toward the far reaches of the land. She was ecstatic; she was free.

In an instant the light faded, and shadows fell over her face. She opened her eyes. The woods had grown dark, veiled in obscurity as a cloud passed overhead. Tegan looked up at the sky. It was still blue and bright, but a heavy cloud had concealed the sun. For a moment, she felt cold, but she knew that the cloud would soon drift away and allow the light to return.

Tegan waited. The air grew cooler, then cold; she began to shiver. The cloud remained in the sky. She felt the wind begin overhead, and she heard it rushing through the high branches. They rustled and shifted, whispering harshly, growing louder until she had to cover her ears with her hands.

Shadows bled out from behind the trees, creeping closer to her as she watched. She wanted to rise, to run from this dark place, but her legs refused to move. She was rooted to the ground, as solidly as the trees that surrounded her. Their shadows reached out, drawing nearer until one fell across her foot. It was ice against her skin. Quickly it spread over her entire body. She shivered violently now, pressing her hands over her ears to block out the frantic, panting, pleading whispers.

The shadow had engulfed her, sending cold, probing fingers into her mind, stealing all the warmth, all the contentment and light that she had known. She fought against the dark, her mouth twisting as a moan struggled to escape her throat. She groaned, then, from deep within her being. She drew a breath against the cold, moaning again, bereft and irrevocably alone.

"No," she moaned, "no, no, no." The word was her mantra. It was her only defense against the shadows that plundered the sun. She spoke it over and over again, her voice growing louder in an attempt to drown out the ceaseless whispers.

When she felt fingers grip at her shoulders, she recoiled, slashing at them with her hands until she could fight no more. With a final moan, she allowed herself to slip to the ground and melt into the darkness.

"Tegan!" The Doctor's firm voice reached through the depths of her dream to rouse her.

Tegan opened her eyes. She lay flat on the ground. The Doctor knelt next to her, his hands clasping her shoulders. Wan, early morning light filled the shelter, and she could see his face dimly. His expression showed deep concern.

"That's it," he was saying, his voice softer and gentler now. "Come on, Tegan, wake up."

She shook her head and blinked at him. "Doctor?" she rasped. A shiver ran through her; she was terribly cold.

He lifted her to a sitting position and leaned in to look closely at her face. Over his shoulder, she could see Turlough. He appeared worried, too. She shivered again.

The Doctor removed his coat and wrapped it around her then rested his hand on her shoulder again. His searching gaze made her uncomfortable, and she looked away.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You seem to have had a rather bad dream," the Doctor replied sympathetically.

"A dream?" she repeated, struggling to recall its details. She shivered once more.

"A nightmare's more like it," said Turlough. "You were moaning and crying out, and shaking—"

The Doctor glanced at the young man and shook his head. "It seemed to have a profound effect on you," he said to Tegan. "You are still quite chilled." His fingers brushed her cheek then moved down to rest against the pulse point at her throat. "And your heart was racing—it has not entirely returned to normal even now. What were you dreaming about?"

Tegan thought for a moment, her forehead creasing in concentration. "I can't remember."

"No? Not anything?" the Doctor pressed. He still watched her closely.

"Not really, just feeling cold and—some shadows. That's all." She looked away, moving her eyes to the branches so that she would not have to see her companions' expressions.

"What else?" the Time Lord inquired.

"That's it," she said. "Really, it was just a dream. I'm sorry I disturbed you—"

"Tegan," said the Doctor, turning her face back toward him with a hand on her cheek, "you had very frightening dreams once before—"

"The Mara," she said flatly, then with a small gasp, added, "You told me it was gone!"

"Yes," he reassured her, "it is. It is absolutely gone. I am not suggesting that this dream had any connection to it. But I wonder if there is something else that is troubling you…"

"Something else? Like what?"

He shook his head with a frown. "I don't know. Perhaps you can tell me."

Tegan glanced at Turlough. She would certainly not confide in the Doctor with this red-haired schoolboy listening; she still did not trust him entirely. She supposed, however, that it was a moot point. She did not recall the content of her dream, so could not share it even if she wished to.

"I'm fine, Doctor. Thanks for your concern, but it was just a bad dream. Humans have them sometimes, you know."

She shifted so that she sat upon her knees. She parted the branches and looked out into the woods. Gray light and fog made the area murky. "So," she said, forcing another shiver to subside, "where do we go from here?"

The Doctor removed one of the sides of the shelter and looked about. "We should head for the mountains." He moved forward then stood. "This fog will provide good cover for us for a while."

"What are we waiting for?" Tegan said a bit too eagerly.

The Doctor glanced back at her solicitously as they began to walk through the thick mist. When a shadow seemed to brush past the corner of Tegan's eye a minute later, she took a deep, steadying breath and focused her gaze straight ahead.

After a time, the fog began to dissipate and sunlight filtered through the trees. Small animals resembling squirrels scampered across the leafy ground and up the trunks of the evergreens. Birds chirruped and warbled in the morning sun. The woods were cheerful and bright, a stark contrast to the gloom of war that hovered somewhere in the distance.

The three companions walked quietly, listening for signs of soldiers or evidence of nearby fighting. Tegan was glad that the Doctor's occasional glances at her had ceased. Somehow his concern felt belittling to her. As she thought about this, it occurred to her that their whole experience over the last twelve hours had stemmed from his concern. He had told her that they were going to see a magnificent rose bush on Rudaria; he had implied that the stop was just for her. Did he find her that needy and pitiable? After the time she had spent traveling with him, she had hoped that he might see some strength in her.

There had been occasions, though, when she had wished for his compassion and care. After Adric had died, she had longed for an assuaging word from the Time Lord, but he had carried on as usual. After he had banished the Mara from her mind, he had quickly assumed that she was fine, never stopping to ask whether she bore any ill emotional effects. At least Nyssa had shown some concern… Then Nyssa's departure had left her feeling solitary and isolated; the Doctor and Turlough, while providing some company, did not encourage her to share her thoughts or feelings.

Walking slightly behind him now, watching him move steadfastly ahead, she wondered what she wanted from him. She knew that she would like for him to see her as competent—she always felt so uneducated and mentally dull next to him and Nyssa. Even Turlough possessed considerable knowledge about science that was beyond her comprehension. Yet she also wished at times for a direct indication of some emotion from him. She knew that at some level he cared about her; he had certainly been concerned about her nightmare. But a part of her wondered if that concern resulted more from his sense of responsibility toward his companions than from some specific emotional attachment to her. She understood that he was a Time Lord and that he had been trained to be detached, but still, after the time she had spent with him she would like to know that he cared about her as a person, not simply as his charge.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, Tegan did not notice that the Doctor and Turlough had stopped walking. She nearly collided with Turlough, wheeling around to keep her place.

"There," the Doctor was pointing, "do you see it?"

Turlough peered at the distance. "It does look like smoke," he replied.

"Yes," said the Doctor, "but is it from a soldiers' camp or from a home?"

"Does it really matter?" asked Tegan.

"Of course it does," replied the Doctor. "That is the direction in which we need to go. If the king's soldiers are camped there, we'll want to avoid it and find an alternate route. If, on the other hand, it is a Briars' camp, they may be able to deliver this message for us." He patted his coat pocket.

"Do you think they'd spare some food?" asked Tegan. Her stomach was rumbling uncomfortably.

The Doctor glanced back at her. "You haven't eaten since yesterday, have you?"

She shook her head. He eyed her critically for a moment then said, "Why don't you and Turlough wait here. I'll just run ahead and have a look. I'll be right back."

"Wait, Doctor—" Tegan began to protest, but he had hustled away.

"Great," she muttered, "he's gone off again."

"I'm sure he won't be long," Turlough offered, leaning back against a tree. "We may as well take a rest while we have the chance."

Tegan sat on a fallen log, allowing her feet to sink deeply into the bed of leaves on the ground. They seemed to envelop her to the ankles. "I've never seen so many leaves," she said idly.

The wind above brushed over the high limbs; they rustled and rubbed. Tegan looked upward. "And this wind," she said, "doesn't it ever stop?"

Turlough glanced up as well. "There's no wind, Tegan," he said. "I would hardly even call this a breeze."

Tegan watched the branches above her head. They moved very little. Yet she clearly heard the murmur of shifting leaves. She listened more intently. Actually the noise was more like a faint hissing or a harsh whisper. She blinked suddenly as a movement caught her eye. She turned her head in the direction of the movement.

"Turlough!" she said. "Over there! I saw someone—"

The young man pushed away from the tree and turned to scrutinize the dense foliage. "Where?" he asked.

"Over there." She stood and pointed.

"Can you hear anything?" he asked, listening.

Tegan remained very still. The whispers were clearly audible to her. "Yes."

Another motion among the trees made her start. Turlough took several steps forward, then turned his head back to her to say, "Get down, Tegan!"

Quickly she fell to her knees behind the log on which she had sat, then she crouched down to peer over it. Turlough had turned toward her and taken several steps when a small group of men emerged from amid the trees.

"Stop!" they commanded.

Tegan watched as half a dozen soldiers surrounded Turlough. Each carried a spear or sword, and most had daggers hanging at their belts. Like the soldiers she had seen before, the men had auburn hair and short, clipped beards. They wore deep blue tunics with some sort of grey emblem embroidered on the chest. Tegan could not make out the image clearly from her position.

Turlough froze and turned back to the men. "Look," he said, "I'm just a visitor here—"

"You are a Kingsman, but you don't wear the soldier's tunic," stated one of the men with some contempt.

"No," replied Turlough honestly.

"You do not support the Briars." His interlocutor's statement was firm.

Turlough shook his head. "Like I said, I'm only visiting here."

"He's from the house of Romsor or Carnaron," said another man. "He has their coloring."

Turlough lifted his hands, saying, "Romsor? I've never heard of them—"

"You are from the Kings' lands, though?" the man who had first spoken asked with some distrust.

"No," replied Turlough, backing away slightly.

"It's of no matter. You are clearly from one of the King's clans. All able-bodied young men are needed in our ranks. If you don't support the Briars, you will come with us and help our fight."

"No, I can't. I'm not a solider—" Turlough began, but several of the men reached for him. He began to step away, but their hands clasped his arms and shoulders.

"If you don't join us, you will be considered the enemy, and you will be treated as such," stated the lead soldier firmly yet dispassionately.

"We're going to launch an assault tomorrow on the Briars' main encampment," blurted out a young soldier.

The lead soldier glared at the youthful speaker. "That's not for him to know!" he snapped, jerking his head toward Turlough. "Watch your tongue, Gramond."

Gramond colored slightly but lifted his chin. "Well, we've taken all the Briars we've met so far."

Several of the men snorted in satisfaction as they glanced back toward the smoke rising above the treeline.

Tegan lowered her body so that she was completely hidden behind the log. She wondered if she should try to intervene. Perhaps she could tell the soldiers that Turlough was really just a tourist and wanted no part in the war. She lifted her shoulders, but a noise behind her caused her to turn her head. A shadow flitted by behind a nearby tree. Was it more soldiers? She craned her neck to see.

Suddenly she heard indistinct voices from behind her. There must be a second group of soldiers approaching. Tegan tried to listen, but she could not make out any words. All that met her ears was a frenzied whispering. It grew louder, yet it remained a mere breath on the wind. It seemed to press in on her, inexplicably frantic yet ethereal. Tegan bent her head to the ground and clapped her palms over her ears.

After some time the noise ceased. She cautiously uncovered her ears and peeked out over the log. She expected to see soldiers all around her, but instead all she saw were trees. She stood and ran toward the area where Turlough had been. He and the other men were gone. She listened but heard no voices. Even the breeze seemed quiet now.

She considered trying to go after Turlough, but she knew that the Doctor would return to the spot where he had left them. There were soldiers in the woods, too; she felt certain of that. The second group must have changed their minds and gone the other way. Tegan's eyes searched the forest on all sides. There were so many trees, and so many dark places among them… She felt cold, and fear began to creep into her.

She wanted the sunlight; she did not wish to be in these shadows any longer. And she was utterly alone. She hunched down on the fallen log, wrapping her arms around herself as her heart began to pound.

"Tegan! Turlough!" The Doctor's voice echoed slightly through the woods.

Tegan stood quickly. "Doctor!"

The Time Lord hurried through the trees. "Ah, there you are. Where's Turlough?"

"He's gone," Tegan said hopelessly.

"Gone? Where has he gotten off to?"

She shook her head. "They took him."

"Who?"

"A group of soldiers— the king's men, I think. They said something about needing all able-bodied young men to help them fight—"

"How long ago was this?"

"I—" Tegan realized that she had no idea. How long had she been crouched behind the log with her hands over her ears? "I'm not sure. I was hiding, and I—I lost track of the time. I think it was shortly after you left."

The Doctor was already searching the area. "I see that the leaves have been disturbed here," he was pointing at the ground.

"Yes, that's where the first group entered."

"The first group? There was another?"

Tegan nodded and gestured behind the fallen log. "They were over there."

The Doctor quickly walked to the area and looked around. "There's no sign of any disturbance here."

Tegan frowned. "Maybe they didn't come this far."

"You didn't see them?"

"No, not directly."

"What did you see?"

"A group of seven or eight soldiers came from there," she nodded to indicate direction. "They asked Turlough if he was a Kingsman. I think it was because of his coloring—they all had red hair similar to his. They thought he was from some family that one of them knew of. He said he was just a visitor, but they told him that all able-bodied men had to help with the fight."

"Yes? Then what happened?"

Tegan shrugged somewhat helplessly. "I… I saw someone else back there, hiding in the trees. I ducked down behind this log to hide, and when I looked up again Turlough and the soldiers were gone."

"Which direction did they take him?"

"I'm not sure. They came from that way." She looked past the Doctor's shoulder.

He frowned as his eyes scanned the dense woods.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"The smoke that we saw," he began. "It was from a camp that had been attacked."

"Attacked? By whom?"

"I'm not sure."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"I'm afraid that several Briars lost their lives." The Doctor seemed to sigh as he added regretfully, "There was nothing that I could do for them."

Tegan wrapped her arms around her waist; she felt chilled again. "I think the soldiers who were here were involved in that. And they're definitely involved in the attack on the Briars' main camp planned for tomorrow."

"They mentioned it?"

Tegan nodded. "They're going to force Turlough to go with them, to help with the attack."

The Doctor scowled deeply then took her arm. "Come on."

"Are we going after Turlough?"

"No. If we happen across him, we'll try to get him away from the soldiers. However, our first priority must be to alert the Briars of the planned attack. If we can stop it, Turlough may not have to be involved."

"But there may be other battles in the mean time."

The Doctor nodded somberly. "Yes. But I'm afraid that in this case our responsibility must lie with the larger group."

"But Doctor, we can't just leave Turlough with them—"

He turned to her. "We must. The king's soldiers cannot be permitted to launch their attack."

Tegan studied his face for a moment. She could tell that he was withholding information from her. "What is it that you know? Tell me."

He hesitated. "The king's soldiers are ruthless. The camp I found was actually a small home where the Briars had apparently stopped for food or water. An elderly couple lived there." He paused. "The king's soldiers did not kill only the Briars."

"They killed the old couple?" Tegan asked, appalled.

The Doctor nodded. "While I despise war, casualties among the soldiers are to be expected. But when civilians who have done nothing, who often have no involvement or desire for the conflict whatsoever, are senselessly slaughtered—" He clenched his hands into fists.

"It's awful," Tegan finished simply.

The Doctor took a deep breath. For a few seconds his eyes seemed unfocused, as though he were staring inwardly. He blinked and exhaled. "If they would kill an innocent old man and woman indiscriminately, you can only imagine what they would do if permitted to take over this planet. They are acting without conscience. I'm afraid that their king has exerted a very powerful influence over them."

"How can that be?"

The Doctor frowned. "Throughout history, both on Earth and on other planets, there have been leaders with extreme charisma who can induce nearly blind obedience in their followers. "

Tegan felt clammy and vaguely ill; her stomach churned and rolled uncomfortably, and she swallowed hard. "I understand," she whispered.

"So you see why we must do everything in our power to stop the king's soldiers." The Doctor took a step forward, saying, "This way. And keep a sharp eye out for any sign of the king's men."

Tegan followed him as the leaves began to stir once again over her head.

The soldiers had led Turlough through interminable trees and then a huge, soggy meadow of sorts for over an hour. When he paused for breath, they prodded him forward with a spear tip between his shoulder blades. Now, finally, they stopped. The lead soldier, whose name Turlough had discovered was Rundly, rummaged in a cloth bag slung over his shoulder. He pulled a tunic from it and handed this to Turlough.

"Put this on," he ordered.

Turlough held the garment up to inspect it. It was identical to those worn by the other men, with an emblem across the chest. Upon closer scrutiny, he saw that the emblem was a serpent entwined in a crown. Something about the image was chilling to him. Perhaps it was the snake's cold gaze, created by the addition of two small gems where the eyes would be, or perhaps it was the splatters of blood that flecked the crown.

"Now!" commanded Rundly, striking Turlough's thigh with the handle of his spear.

The Trion youth stumbled then righted himself. "There's blood on this one."

Rundly snorted. "So there is. Do you think we brought this along as a spare? Just hope you fare better than the last man who wore it."

Turlough donned the tunic with considerable distaste. The other men passed a flask among them, but they did not offer it to him. One of the men clambered to the top of a tree at the edge of the meadow to survey the area. When he returned to Rundly, he said, "There's a group of Briars just crossing the ridge over there."

Rundly grinned and gripped the handle of his sword. "Are they coming this way?"

The other man nodded.

"Then we'll have a surprise for them," Rundly responded. Gesturing to the other men, he said, "Fan out; form a line all across the meadow then get down. We'll attack as soon as they cross our path."

The men began moving away and into position. Turlough looked around, wondering if he could dash away before the other soldiers arrived. He took several steps toward the edge of the meadow before Rundly caught him by the collar, pulling the fabric so that it pressed against his throat. Turlough gasped.

"You fight next to me," Rundly said. He released Turlough and shoved him forward.

"But I don't have a weapon," Turlough protested, "and I told you, I'm not a soldier. I don't know anything about fighting—"

Rundly eyed the young man somewhat distastefully. "You'll learn quickly or die," he said with a shrug.

"Look," Turlough said, forcing his voice to remain calm, "why don't you just let me go. I'll run as far away from here as I can—"

"And right to the Briars to tell them about our plan," finished Rundly.

"No," Turlough protested, "I won't—"

Rundy shook his head obdurately. "We can't risk it. You'll stay here and fight with us."

"But without a weapon I have no chance at all!"

"No, you don't." Rundly reached into his boot and withdrew a dagger. The blade was seven or eight inches long; the handle was somewhat shorter.

Turlough reached for the knife, but Rundly swept his arm upward swiftly to press the tip of the weapon against the schoolboy's throat. "You get this when we start to fight. And if you think for one moment about using it against me or any of my men, you'll find it used against you in the most unpleasant way possible." He scraped the tip across Turlough's jaw then rested it on his jugular vein. "Understand?"

Turlough nodded. Rundly pushed him away, then ordered, "Down!"

All of the soldiers and Turlough ducked to wait for the Briars to enter the meadow. Turlough's face was damp with perspiration as he searched frantically for a way to escape these brutal men.


	3. Chapter 3

Tegan and the Doctor had walked steadily for over an hour. She estimated that they had covered at least two kilometers. The trees had thinned out somewhat; the dense woods yielded to groves of maples and oaks, or something quite similar to them. The sparser trees permitted more sunlight in this area, and the leaves seemed quieter. She had not heard them rustling in some time.

Tegan's vague nausea had yielded to a gnawing hunger. As they walked along, she noticed some bushes with white berries growing in clusters among the deep green leaves. She paused to pluck a stem, admiring the sheen of the fruit before popping a berry into her mouth.

"Tegan!" the Doctor cried, turning around to witness her impromptu meal. "Spit that out!"

Tegan's brow wrinkled in confusion. She had just bitten into the berry, and succulent juice filled her mouth.

The Doctor was beside her in an instant, grabbing the berries from her hand. "Spit it out, now," he said firmly.

With a frown, Tegan leaned forward and expelled the contents of her mouth onto the grassy ground. She looked up at her companion with considerable perturbation. "Why did you make me do that?"

He held the berries up. "These may be poisonous."

"Oh come on, Doctor, they're delicious! The people here probably use them all the time—"

"We don't know that, do we? You can't go about sampling unknown flora on unfamiliar planets. It's not safe."

"But I'm starving!" Tegan blurted out. Her stomach growled loudly as if to confirm her statement.

The Doctor studied the berries for a few seconds. "Well, these appear to have toxic properties. They are likely in the magnoliophyta classification, which often contains glycoside, a rather nasty poison."

Tegan pressed a hand to her stomach. "Oh. I didn't know."

"Did you swallow any of the juice?" he asked, tossing the berries away.

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Good. The level of glycoside in a single berry would not be sufficient to harm you, but you would not enjoy the way it would make you feel—stomach cramps, vomiting, delirium—"

"I get the picture."

They continued walking quietly for a time. Tegan's stomach protested its emptiness again, and she said, "I don't suppose you have any jelly babies in your pocket?"

"Jelly babies?"

"Don't you remember? You always carried them before."

"Hmm. Yes, I do recall something of the sort. But no, I'm afraid that I left them in the coat I wore back then."

Tegan sighed.

"However," he continued, "I will try to find something for you to eat. At the very least, you should have some water. There must be a stream or a pond in the area."

They entered another grove, this once denser than the previous one. Tegan did not like the loss of sunlight that the heavier foliage caused. Suddenly she saw a brief movement to her left; something passed the edge of her line of vision. She stopped and whispered, "Doctor!"

"What is it?" he asked, pausing, too.

She turned slightly and pointed. "There's someone out there."

The Doctor peered into the trees. "Where?"

"Right there. Can't you see him?" The shadow had moved quite quickly. Now that she faced it, it flitted to the side. She blinked. "There!"

The Doctor focused his gaze, but he saw nothing. "Are you certain that you saw something?" he asked.

She nodded. The leaves had begun to move in the breeze again, and their murmuring grew louder. She had to concentrate to answer the Doctor's question. Finally, she said, "Yes."

He had turned to face her. His eyes were on her, not amid the trees where the intruder was. She shook her head and blinked again.

He leaned in toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she snapped, irked that his attention was directed at her, not at the danger so near by. "I'm fine, but what about that?" She pointed again toward the trees, but this time all appeared still. The movements had ceased, and the even the leaves had become quiet.

"Tegan," he said slowly, "there's nothing out there. I didn't see or hear anything."

"Well, I did!" She twisted away from his gaze. "There was someone out there. I saw something—I'm sure of it." She stalked away to stand with crossed arms near a large maple.

She heard the Doctor's feet brush against the tall grass as he approached her. "We should keep moving. Don't let your imagination get the best of you."

She whirled around. "It wasn't my imagination!"

With a small shake of his head, the Doctor said conciliatorialy, "We haven't time for this now. Come on."

Somewhat vexed, Tegan walked a few paces behind him. She had seen someone, or something, in the woods. She felt certain of it as the leaves began to stir overhead once again.

Turlough crouched among the tall grass and flowers in the meadow. Rundly was several feet to his right. He could hear the voices of the approaching Briars. Clearly they had no idea that a battle waited only minutes away. He wanted to stand, to shout out a warning, but Rundly watched him vigilantly, gripping his spear securely.

When the soldiers came into full view, Rundly stood with a sharp cry. The other men followed suit, dashing forward to attack the small group of Briars. As he passed Turlough, Rundly pressed a dagger into his hand. "Prove your loyalty to the king, or I'll use this on you," he growled, already lifting his spear.

Turlough stood immobile for several seconds, staring at the dagger in his hand. A scream brought him back to full awareness, and he looked up to see Rundly pinning a Briar to the ground, his spear driving through the man's chest. Each of Rundly's men was engaged with a Briar soldier, punching and kicking, wielding swords and daggers. Turlough saw blood on several men's faces; for a moment the scene was simply a reddish blur.

Then a Briar was moving toward him, slashing his sword from side to side. Turlough turned to run, but Rundly shouted, "Take him, boy! Take him, or I take you."

Turlough saw several of Rundly's men watching him. With some horror, he realized that most of the Briar soldiers lay injured or dead on the ground. Two or three still struggled with the king's men. One Briar managed to slash one of the king's soldiers across the chest; the man staggered and fell. Rundly shouted several invectives and lunged for the man who had hurt his comrade.

Turlough jumped back as the Briar soldier's sword swung at his midsection. He ducked to avoid a second attempt aimed at his neck. This time, however, he stumbled and landed on the ground. In an instant the man had pinned Turlough's chest with his heavily-booted foot. With both hands the Briar soldier lifted the sword.

Turlough was gasping for breath, and his heart raced furiously. He looked all around; surely Rundly or one of his men would intervene. But they did not. He still gripped the dagger in his hand. As the sword plunged downward, Turlough's arm shot up, and he cut the man deeply across the ankle.

His assailant cried out and looked down at the wound. Turlough managed to roll to the side, pushing the man's leg away with both hands. Immediately the soldier tackled him, falling across his shoulders and forcing him to the ground. As he fell, though, Turlough twisted to land on his back. The other man sprawled across his chest, and his sword landed on the ground with a soft thud. The soldier reached for his weapon with one hand and clawed at the Turlough's throat with the other.

Turlough lifted the dagger as his opponent managed to retrieve his sword. His grip on Turlough's neck tightened. The Trion could barely breathe, and his vision dimmed. He lifted the dagger, knowing that he could plunge it into the man's ribs with a single thrust. But he faltered. Hesitation and doubt caused his arm to flail ineffectually. He was choking, then. He saw through the growing darkness a glint of metal in the sunlight; the sword was descending on him. He ceased his struggles, determined at the final moment to find an instant of peace.

An agonized scream pierced the air, and the hand fell away from Turlough's throat. He gasped and drew several breaths as his vision cleared. The soldier lay across his chest with a sword jutting from his back. Rundly towered above, glowering as he pulled the sword from the Briar's back.

Turlough pushed the body away and rolled onto his knees, gulping air as he crawled away from the dead soldier. His hands were splayed on the ground; blood covered them. Frantically he swept them through the grass. His stomach lurched, and he retched. He heard the men guffaw.

After a minute, Rundly grabbed his shoulder and pulled him upright. "Come on," he said roughly, "that's enough. Next time you kill the damn Briar; I won't save you again."

Turlough wiped a hand across his mouth. "Please," he said weakly, "don't make me fight again."

Rundly reached out to clamp his fingers around Turlough's face. "Oh, you'll fight again, boy. There's no turning back now. You'll stay with us until we reach the Briars' main camp, and on the way you'll fight them or we'll fight you—and I think you know what the outcome of that would be." He released Turlough with a shove.

The Trion native stumbled back, fighting to keep his balance. Near his feet lay Rundly's injured colleague, who Turlough recognized as Gramond. Blood saturated his tunic, and his eyes showed intense pain and fear. He reached for Turlough, grabbing his ankle.

Turlough knelt beside the wounded man then looked up at Rundly. "We have to help him," he said.

"He's been cut deeply. There's nothing we can do," Rundly replied emotionlessly.

"We can bandage the wound and get him to a surgeon—" Turlough began.

"A surgeon? Where are we going to find one out here?"

"Isn't there a hospital unit?"

"Hospital? You mean a place for the injured?"

"Yes. Surely you've set up a facility to care for the wounded."

"There's an apothecary at our base camp, but it's nearly a day's walk from here."

"Is that where we're heading?" Turlough looked back down at the fallen soldier. The man had pressed his hand against Turlough's arm.

"No. I already told you, we're heading for the Briars' main camp."

"They'll have some facilities for the wounded—"

"And just how to you suggest we get him there?"

Gramond made a noise much like a whimper. Turlough gently clasped his shoulder. "I'll take him."

Rundly shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if he slows you down, you're leaving him."

Turlough returned his attention to the injured man. "Do you have any bandages?" he asked after a moment.

Rundly gestured to another soldier who produced some torn strips of linen from his bag. He handed these to Turlough, and the Trion eased Gramond soldier upward and wrapped the bandages securely around his chest and back.

"Come on. We've wasted enough time here already." Rundly helped Turlough heave the soldier up to his feet.

Supporting his charge, Turlough stumbled out of the meadow with the king's loyal men.

Tegan was nearly unbearably thirsty, hungry, and tired, and for the last few minutes the leaves had been rustling noisily overhead. The noise was grating on her nerves considerably. As the Doctor easily forged ahead, she began to slow, falling several paces then several yards behind him.

After a time he glanced back and noticed her slow stride. He turned to walk back to her. "Come on, Tegan," he urged, "we have to keep moving."

She had kept her gaze focused on the ground for several minutes, but now she looked up. "Can we rest for a little while?" she asked softly.

He studied her for a moment, then said, "I haven't found anything for you to eat yet, have I?"

She shook her head. Her stomach had ceased its audible protestations. Now it simply seemed to squeeze in upon itself in a very uncomfortable way. She pressed her hand against her belly.

"All right. You stay here , and I'll see what I can find." He looked around then took her arm and led her to a clump of tall, flowering bushes. "Stay behind these until I return."

Tegan slipped through the soft branches and fragrant blossoms and stationed herself among the brush as the Time Lord hurried away. She touched one of the flowers to find its lavender petals velvety and soft. In the lighter growth of this area the sun shone in large patches between the trees, illuminating and warming Tegan. She felt so weary; she allowed herself to sink to her knees. For a few minutes she felt almost tranquil in the sunshine with the floral perfume gently surrounding her.

Her tranquility was short-lived, however. Soon the sound of the leaves returned, growing louder and more insistent. Tegan lifted her hands to cover her ears, but some small characteristic of the noise made her stop. The rustling had turned into whispers, and as she listened she could almost discern words. The sounds were not random; there was a rhythm within them much like speech. She focused her attention on the whispers.

Suddenly she understood a word clearly: "Help." The word was repeated, and the voice was high and shrill. With a start she realized that it was a child's voice. Tegan stepped from the bushes and moved in the direction of the cry. She continued to listen, and now she heard a distinct phrase: "Help! I'm in the water. Help me! Mama, help me!"

The plea was drifting through the trees to her left. Tegan ran toward the cry that the child seemed to repeat over and over again. In a few minutes she saw a small lake. The child's voice had grown louder; she felt certain that the youngster had fallen into the pool.

She hurried to the edge of the water and looked over the surface. The water appeared calm. "Where are you?" she called.

There was no reply. Indeed, the child's cries had ceased. She squinted at the bright water. In the middle of the lake a dark shadow hovered just beneath the surface. Tegan's heart leapt; the child was drowning. She waded into the water. Its depth increased quickly, immersing her to the shoulders nearly immediately. The water was cold, and Tegan tried to keep from shivering as she continued to move toward the child.

She allowed her feet to float up and began to swim. She moved easily for a few moments, but then she felt her shoulder brush against something. Her sleeve caught on an object in the water. She twisted her head to see a large branch next to her. She guessed that it was stuck somehow on the lake bottom. Her sweater was hooked over one of the branch's smaller protrusions. She moved her arm to pull it away, but the sleeve caught on a second rough, thick twig. This time she felt the wood scrape her skin, and after a few seconds blood drifted to the surface of the water.

"Cripes," she muttered, still working to free herself. She kicked her feet to keep herself afloat, but they were growing numb in the chill of the water. Her hands were losing sensation, too. She twisted around to tug at her sleeve. She felt the branch against her legs, snagging her stockings, seeming to affix her clothing to it more securely with every motion she made. Frantically she pulled and rotated her body, but somehow she only became more entangled in the numerous sharp twigs.

She looked out toward the middle of the lake. The shadow flickered as she watched. "Hang on!" she cried as her shoulders began to slip downward. She gasped, and water sloshed into her mouth. She coughed and tried to expel it, but the lake seemed to suck her further down. Tegan's head disappeared beneath the surface.

After a moment her right hand shot out of the water, grasping at the top of the branch, but it had drifted slightly to the side. Her senseless fingers splashed in the water, then her hand sank into the depths of the lake.


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor returned to the bush where he had left Tegan with a bunch of wild grapes in his hand.

As he parted the flowers and leaves, he said, "This should tide you over until we can find something else. I saw a small homestead not far from here. We can go there and—"

He stopped speaking. To his surprise, Tegan was not behind the bush. He looked around and called her name, but she was nowhere in sight. He bent to examine the ground. He could see broken blades of grass left in the wake of his step, and in the other direction he noted similar evidence of Tegan's footsteps. He followed the small disturbance for several minutes, growing more irritated as he walked. He had told her to remain hidden and that he would return soon. Why had she left? He saw signs of only one person's moving through the grass, so he felt fairly sure that she had not been taken away by soldiers. A frown had deepened to a scowl by the time he saw the sparkling lake spread before him.

"Tegan!" he called softly, not wishing to be heard by any patrols in the area. Perhaps she had come here for water; she must have been terribly thirsty. He called her again, but there was no reply. He turned to search the area near the lake.

A flash of white amid the silver of the water caught his eye. Squinting, he peered across the lake. About half-way between the shore and the center something lay just beneath the surface. The top of a branch bobbed up for a moment, and he started to turn away. However, another bit of brightness drew his eyes once more. Beside the branch was something pale. As he watched, a few auburn tendrils seemed to fan out on the top of the water, then a hand appeared.

"Tegan!" he cried, throwing off his coat and plowing into the lake. Swiftly he swam toward the branch. He saw the back of Tegan's head pop up; her arms drifted out to the sides. When he reached her, he immediately wrapped his arms around her chest, pulling her shoulders and head from the water.

"Tegan!" he gasped again. Her head lolled back; her eyes were closed. Keeping one arm firmly around her, he turned to swim back to the shore. However, she seemed to resist the movement. Feeling about beneath the surface, the Doctor realized that her arm and legs were caught in the branch. He draped her free arm over the portion of the limb that floated above the water then reached for her sleeve. He quickly tugged it from the twig on which it was caught, then he dove beneath the surface to extricate her legs. Her stockings had gotten snagged on the branch. She had obviously tried to pull them free but had somehow become more desperately entangled. He grasped her ankles and yanked them from the rough twigs.

The Doctor shot to the surface and wrapped an arm about Tegan's torso once more then used his other arm and legs to paddle and kick toward the shore. Tegan's head had fallen back against his shoulder, and the pallor of her skin alarmed him considerably. Still kicking his legs, he pressed his fingers to her throat. He felt no pulse. He wondered how long she had been immersed in the water, then he forced himself to think only of the task at hand.

When he reached the shore, he stumbled up onto the bank, dragging Tegan's limp form to the soft grass. He lay her on her back and dropped to his knees beside her. Again he checked for a pulse, then he bent his head to her chest. He frowned deeply.

Straightening quickly, he pulled her up to rest against his chest then wrapped his arms around her. He thrust his fist up and into her abdomen, just beneath her ribcage. She jerked slightly, and a small amount of water gushed from her mouth.

"That's it, Tegan," the Doctor encouraged, pressing a hand to her chest. "Now you just need to breathe."

He waited a moment, then, with a shake of his head lay her on the grass again. He tilted her chin back and clamped his mouth over hers as he pinched her nose closed. He expelled several small breaths into her mouth, then he lifted his head to check her breathing once more. With considerable relief he found that she inhaled and exhaled shallowly on her own.

"Good, Tegan," he said, "very good. Don't stop."

She continued to breathe, but the breaths were not deep. Her skin was still frightfully pale and cold, and she had not given any indication of regaining consciousness. He recalled how frigid the lake water had been. He lifted Tegan into his arms, tucking his coat around her, and began to walk, water dripping in his wake.

After perhaps five minutes a small cabin came into view. A thin wisp of smoke curled up from the chimney. The Doctor strode quickly to the door and called, "Hello?"

He could hear a woman's voice speaking softly yet urgently inside, but no one responded to his greeting. After a few moments he said, "Please, I need help. I have an injured woman with me."

The door opened a crack, and a young woman peered out at him. He could tell that she was scrutinizing him, trying to determine what danger he might pose.

He said, "My companion fell into the lake. She needs to be warmed immediately. Please, may I bring her inside?"

"Are you a Kingsman?" the woman asked in a quavering voice.

The Doctor shook his head. "I am a traveler."

"Then you are not a Briar, either?"

"No."

The woman's eyes rested on Tegan. "She is your wife?"

"No," the Doctor replied, "she is a friend."

"She doesn't look well."

"No, she was in the water a long time."

The woman opened the door and stepped back, permitting the Doctor to enter. She shut the door quickly and barred it, then she beckoned her guest toward a doorway at the back of the small dwelling. "Bring her in here," she said.

The Doctor carried Tegan into a cramped but tidy bedroom and lay her on the bed. The woman touched Tegan's cheek then looked up at the Doctor. "Go and warm yourself by the fire. I'll remove her wet clothing."

He hesitated to leave his companion, but the woman reached into the drawer of a stout dresser and withdrew several garments that she handed to him, saying, "Put these on,and leave your clothes by the fire. I'll attend to her. Go."

He took the clothing and left, quickly changing into a loose tunic and pants as he stood by the fireplace. He draped his own clothes over two chairs. He had an odd feeling of eyes upon him, but he did not see anyone else in the room.

The woman came out of the bedroom soon holding Tegan's clothing. She had a curious expression on her face.

"These are very strange garments," she said.

The Doctor replied, "We have traveled a great distance from a faraway place."

She nodded and settled the clothes over another chair.

"How is she?" asked the Doctor.

"She's still very cold." The woman had gone to a bucket near the wood stove and dipped some water into a small basin. "She's cut her arm deeply, too."

The Doctor took the basin from her. "I'll take care of it," he said.

"As you wish," she acquiesced, although she gave him a look that conveyed some surprise. She removed a few strips of linen from a basket and handed them to him with a small container of salve, warning, "This will sting for a short time, but it will help the wound to heal. I'll prepare a warm drink for you and her."

"Thank you," the Doctor acknowledged.

He found Tegan wrapped in a thick, soft quilt. Her eyes were still closed, but he noted that she was breathing more evenly, and when he touched her cheek he found her skin somewhat warmer than it had been. She was still chilled, though, and he was disturbed by her continued unconsciousness. She had been in the water, deprived of oxygen, for some time…

He recalled that her right arm had been snagged in the branch, and he pulled back the quilt to view the injury. He discovered that Tegan had been dressed in a warm nightgown. The sleeve was rolled back to expose a ragged, deep gash on her forearm.

Gently the Time Lord wiped the wound with a wet cloth. Her skin was still cool. He leaned forward and said softly, "Brave heart, Tegan. You must find the strength to wake."

He saw that her eyes moved beneath her lids; surely she was responding to his words. "Come, Tegan," he encouraged, "I've found you a nice, warm bed and perhaps even a cup of tea. But you must wake up if you are to have it."

She seemed to sigh, but her eyes did not open. He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

Her eyelids fluttered, and slowly they opened. She blinked at him. "Doctor?" she whispered.

He smiled. "Were you expecting someone else?" he asked lightly.

His small joke appeared to confuse her momentarily. She looked around then returned her gaze to his face. "Where are we?" she asked.

"A kind woman has permitted us into her home."

Tegan nodded. "Mmm," she murmured, closing her eyes again, "it feels good."

"Tegan," the Doctor said a bit more sharply than he intended, "I want you to stay awake now. Come on." He patted at her hand.

She opened one eye. "Rabbits," she muttered. "Just when I get comfortable—"

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Comfortable. Do you feel all right?"

Tegan thought for a moment before responding. "I'm a little cold, and my arm hurts." She looked down then lifted her hand to view the cut. "Cripes. How did I do that?"

The Doctor took her arm and rubbed some salve over the wound. Tegan winced at the sting and tried to pull her arm back, but the he held it firmly to wrap a strip of linen around it, saying, "You seem to have caught it on a rather nasty branch in the lake."

"The lake?" She appeared to consider this for some time.

The Doctor watched her with concern. Finally he said, "Yes, Tegan. You were at the lake. Do you remember?"

She nodded slowly, then she sat up quickly with alarm. "The child! Doctor, did you get the child?"

"What child?"

"There was a child in the lake, calling for help. That's why I went in—he was drowning, he had gone beneath the surface—"

"Tegan, I didn't see a child. I saw only you in the water."

"He was in the middle of the lake, just below the surface."

The Doctor stood. "Are you certain about this?"

Tegan nodded emphatically. "Yes! Why else would I go out into a freezing lake? I was trying to save him. Oh God, it's too late now, isn't it? He can't have survived all this time."

"No," replied the Doctor slowly, "he can't have."

"The poor thing. He was calling for his mother… I got there as fast as I could."

"Did you see him clearly?" the Time Lord asked carefully.

"No. He had gone down before I got there. But I could see something just below the surface. I'm sure it was him. That poor little child drowned, and I couldn't save him." She blinked back tears.

"You tried, Tegan. That is the most important thing." The Doctor's voice was very calm. "Now I want you to rest some more. Our hostess is going to bring you a hot drink, and perhaps she'll have something for you to eat, too. I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?"

"To the lake." He walked out of the room.

The mistress of the house was pouring steaming liquid into two mugs when he stepped into the kitchen.

"Has she awakened?" she asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes."

"I'll take this to her." She lifted a cup in one hand and held the second out toward the Doctor.

He took a small sip. The liquid had a pleasant, herbaceous quality to it, and a slight hint of fruit.

"Thank you," he said. She had begun to walk away, but he added, "Wait one moment, please. Are there any small children in this area?"

She turned to stare at him with large eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"My companion, Tegan, thought there was a child in the lake."

"A child in the lake?"

He nodded. "Yes. That is why she went into the water. She was trying to save him."

The woman set the mug on the stove and stepped toward a small alcove over which a curtain hung. She pulled back the curtain and reached inside. After a moment, a small boy, perhaps four years old, emerged, guided by her hand on his shoulder.

"My son is the only child near here. There are no other homes in the area."

The Doctor smiled briefly at the child, who was ogling him with some alarm.

"Has he been near the lake today?" asked the Doctor.

The woman shook her head. "No. He has been in here with me all day. He doesn't leave the house unless I'm with him, and then only to attend to our cow or chickens."

"I see. I need to leave for a short time. Would you be so kind as to watch Tegan while I'm gone?"

The woman nodded. "Of course."

"And I wonder," he added, "if I might trouble you for something to eat? It's been nearly a full day since she's had any food."

"I'll prepare something."

"Thank you. I'll be back soon." The Doctor hurried away from the homestead and back toward the lake.

He stood at the shore, gazing at the water with his full attention. He saw the branch that had ensnared Tegan, and several other similar types of debris floated on the surface, but he saw no sign of another human being. A large tree with spreading branches grew near the edge of the lake. Carefully the Doctor climbed up to a sturdy limb. This location permitted him to view the entire lake. The water was very clear, and he could see the lake bottom in most areas. Again the large branch was visible, as were its smaller kin, and a few fish flitted along. There were some branches stuck at the bottom of the lake, and the Doctor spied several large rocks as well, but there was no child.

He descended the trunk of the tree with relief; he had dreaded finding a drowning victim, especially a child, in the water. Yet the absence of a victim meant that Tegan had imagined the incident. She had nearly lost her life to some sort of hallucination. With mounting concern, the Doctor walked back to the homestead.

-----

Turlough stumbled along with the injured soldier, supporting Gramond more with each step. The bandage he had wrapped around the wound was suffused with blood, and it was clear that the soldier was growing weaker. He and Turlough had fallen behind the others.

Rundly turned around and shouted, "Come on! We don't have time to spare, and he's slowing us down."

"I'm doing the best I can," Turlough returned hotly. "Let us rest for a minute; I'm sure that will help him."

Rundly scowled. "I told you before that you'd have to leave him if he hindered our progress."

"Just give me one minute!" Turlough stopped walking and bent to permit his charge to slip to the ground. "Let me have some more bandages," he said.

"I'm not wasting any more on him. We need what we have left for those who can walk away from the next battle."

Turlough frowned up at Rundly. "Fine," he said tersely, "I'll find something else." He tore at the bottom of the soldier's tunic to remove a long strip of fabric which he began wrapping tightly around the man's chest.

"Thank you," murmured the soldier weakly.

"It's all right," replied Turlough mildly.

"What's… your name?"

The erstwhile schoolboy looked up. "Turlough. And you're Gramond, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Turlough tied the fabric behind Gramond's back.

"Why are… you helping me?" asked Gramond.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because," he gulped, "we forced you… to join us." He coughed.

"Yes, you did. But you're still a human being, and you deserve to be treated like one."

Gramond took a breath and moved his eyes toward Rundly. "Watch out… for him. He's lost in this war."

"What do you mean?" asked Turlough.

"The power—the need to win. He's lost his humanity."

Turlough glanced at the other soldiers. "That seems to be a common occurrence out here."

With a wheeze, Gramond whispered, "For some… but Rundly is the worst. They're just… following him."

Gramond coughed again. Turlough hoisted him up, then asked Rundly, "How much further to the Briars' camp?"

"A day's walk. We'll be there by morning."

"And are there any other camps on the way?"

"A few. We'll stop at one tonight, but he won't last until then. Hell, I doubt he'll make it another half-hour."

"He's your colleague!" Turlough said indignantly. "Don't you care at all about what happens to him?"

"In a war," replied Rundly, "soldiers are expendable. The only thing that matters is the final victory for our king. Now keep up—with or without him."

Turlough trudged ahead as Gramont shuddered and wheezed beside him.

---

When the Doctor returned to the house, the door was barred. He knocked softly until the woman permitted him entry.

"How is she?" he asked immediately, already walking toward the bedroom.

"She's had some tea, and I'm preparing a soup for her."

"Thank you. We appreciate your hospitality and kindness."

The woman bowed her head slightly and returned to the stove. Her son, the Doctor noticed, stood just behind her, peering out from around her skirt. He was a sorrel-haired child with large, gray eyes and pale skin. His thin, wan hand gripped his mother's skirt.

The Doctor went to Tegan. She sat against the pillow holding a mug in her hand. When she saw him, she said immediately, "Did you find him?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, Tegan," he said gently. "There was no one in the lake."

"But there must have been—I heard him crying for help, and I saw a shadow—"

"There were several branches in the water. Perhaps those are what you saw."

"No, he was moving, and he was calling out."

He placed his hand over hers and looked directly into her eyes. "There was no one in the lake."

"Could he have gotten out? Maybe he was able to swim—"

"Tegan, the woman told me that, aside from her son, there are no children near here. This is the only homestead in the area."

Tegan frowned in confusion. "But I heard him! I saw—"

"A shadow. I know. And I know that you saw a shadow earlier in the day, while we were in the woods, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And there was no one there either, remember?" He spoke benignly as he continued to watch her intently.

"What are you saying?" Her voice had grown defensive, and she set the mug roughly on the nighttable with a small thud.

"I believe that you imagined the child, just as you imagined the person in the woods."

"Why? Why would I do that?" She turned her head to stare at the wall to her left as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

"I am not entirely sure. However, I do know that the last few weeks have been stressful for you, and the dream you had last night was a clear indicator that something is troubling you—"

"Troubling me?" Tegan repeated with some vehemence. Her voice had grown rough. "You really want to know what's troubling me? I'll tell you, but you'd better be prepared to spend some time in here. Where should I start? With Adric perhaps? You bet that troubled me, and still does. Then there was the Mara wriggling into my mind again as if I were some sort of giant puppet. Do you have any idea what that feels like, knowing you had this… this horrid thing trampling through your brain and making you do as it wished without any will of your own—"

The Doctor sighed. "I'm sure it was a horrible experience."

"It was! And then I thought you were going to die, that you'd been scrambled so badly that you'd been put back wrong, all burned and nearly dead from Mawdryn's ship's transport pod, and he almost made you give up your lives for all of us… then Nyssa left, and—" Tegan gulped a breath.

The Doctor nodded. "That is a tremendous amount of stress for a human to experience in such a short period of time."

"And you think it's made me lose it?"

"Lose it?"

"Yes, lose it." Tegan lifted her hands and jerked her fingers toward her temples.

"Ah, I see. Perhaps to a small extent."

"Well, you're wrong." Her tone was firm now. "I know what I saw and what I heard. I was not imagining things."

While she spoke steadily, the Doctor saw that she had begun to shake. He pulled the quilt up over her shoulders, saying, "Try to rest for a while longer. You'll have something to eat soon, and that will make you feel better."

Tegan leaned back into the pillow. "I'm not crazy," she said.

"Just rest, Tegan.." He turned and walked out of the room.

Their hostess was adding a handful of flour to a large pot on the stove when the Doctor joined her in the kitchen. The child stood next to her, but he immediately vanished behind her skirt when the guest stepped into view.

"Is she all right?" asked the woman. "She sounded upset."

The Doctor sat wearily in a chair. "We have had a rather difficult journey recently."

"Yes?"

He nodded. "She has seen things…"

"I understand." The woman's voice was quiet, and the Doctor noticed that she had rested her hand on the child's head. He moved away from her skirt slightly, his innate curiosity overriding his fear of this stranger.

"Yes, of course. I'm sure this war has not been easy for you. Is your husband away fighting?"

She nodded. "I haven't seen him in three months. I don't know when he will return." Her hands moved gently down to cover her son's ears, "Or if he will at all."

"I'm sorry. And I apologize if I frightened you when we arrived here."

"It's of no matter. I'm glad to help, and… it's been a long time since I've had the company of another adult."

The child, sensing the trust his mother had placed with the stranger, stepped away from her skirt and moved cautiously toward the Doctor.

The Time Lord smiled at him. "What's your name?" he asked.

The boy's eyes widened, but he did not answer. His mother said, "His name is Erran. I'm Amna."

The Doctor extended his hand toward the child. "Erran, I am very pleased to meet you."

A small, pale hand tentatively slipped forward. The Doctor grasped it lightly, his eyes studying the child for a moment. He ruffled the boy's hair with another smile.

"Erran, please bring me some carrots," Amna said. The little boy turned and went into the alcove.

"Forgive me if I am intruding," said the Doctor, "but he does not look well."

Amna lowered her head for a moment. "He is not."

"Perhaps I may be able to help in some way. Can Erran speak?"

She shook her head sadly. "Yes, he could. He spoke all the time until a few weeks ago. Now he only speaks when he's dreaming."

"Has he been ill?"

"In a manner of speaking." Erran returned with several carrots, which he handed to her. She patted his head, then said, "It's time to finish your nap, dearheart."

"Might I have a moment with him?" asked the Doctor. Amna guided her son toward him.

The boy stood before the Time Lord passively, but his gray eyes watched the man intently. The Doctor took Erran's cheeks gently in his hands and bent to scrutinize his eyes. There was a depth to the child's gaze that surprised the Doctor. The child's eyes were ringed with dark circles, and his pale skin was cool. The Doctor moved his hand to rest it against the boy's chest.

He looked up at Amna. "Thank you."

"To bed now," she said to Erran.

The child obediently walked to a small bed that lay in a second alcove and crawled beneath the covers.

The Doctor stood and pulled out a chair for Amna, gesturing for her to sit. "Tell me what happened to him," he said.

"Soldiers came," she said simply. "He was very frightened by them, by the whole experience, and he has not spoken since then."

"Was he harmed by them in any way?"

"No. He was hidden."

The Doctor watched her carefully, then asked quietly, "And were you harmed?"

She seemed to shiver briefly, but she replied, "No. I hid as well."

"Erran has slept poorly since then, hasn't he?"

She nodded. "He has dreams—over and over again during the night, and sometimes during the day while he naps."

"What sort of dreams are they?"

"Terrible ones for him. He wakes screaming, crying out—I can hardly comfort him, they have grown so bad."

The Doctor shook his head regretfully. "Often the most serious casualties of war are not the soldiers."

"I heard Tegan call you Doctor," Amna said softly. "Do you think that you can help him?"

"Perhaps. I will certainly try."

"What will you need? I have some herbs here, and I've tried to use them, but I'm not an apothecary—I don't know all of the combinations—"

"No herbs will be necessary. When he wakes I will simply need to speak with him again."

Amna appeared skeptical for a moment, but then she stood to return to her soup. "This will be ready soon. I'll take a bowl to Tegan."

"Thank you," said the Doctor, "she will appreciate it, I'm sure."

"She'll be all right?"

The Doctor drew a breath. "I hope so."

---

Tegan had begun to doze in the warmth and comfort of Amna's bed. She heard the Doctor and Amna speaking in the other room, but their words were just a soft buzz. She felt herself drifting toward sleep, and she did not resist.

The murmur from the kitchen still filtered through her foggy senses, but a second sound crept past the words, edging them out of her mind. It seemed impossible to Tegan, for she knew that she was inside, but suddenly she was quite certain that she could hear the rustling and whispering of the leaves. Did they never stop moving in that infernal wind?

She turned her head into the pillow and pulled the quilt up to cover her ear in hopes of blocking out the noise.

---

As Amna stirred the soup, the Doctor asked her about the war. "I know that two groups are fighting," he was saying, "but I am unclear about the cause of this conflict."

"The king, Caramond the Second, has ruled the northern lands for four years. He took power with the help of his ministers. He convinced the people of his lands that he would help them, that he would make their land stronger, and most believed him. I've heard that he is an intense man who can pursuade people to follow his ideas with almost frightening ease. His people had struggled for some time; the north is harsher than here, and they have fewer resources than we do, so they were becoming desperate. Maybe that is why they agreed to follow him…

"Our lands, the lands of the Briars, are made up of four regions. We have always had a shared rule, with a minister appointed from each region to represent our common interests and share our resources. We were quite willing to have Caramond join us. We would have worked out a way to share what we had and use what he had to offer, as well. But Caramond doesn't wish to share; he wants all of our resources for himself. He wants to take control of all of the lands and rule them himself. The Briars want to keep our shared lands and government. We don't fight by choice, but Caramond has forced us to defend our homes and lands."

"And how do the Briars fare now?"

"I don't know. Before he left to fight, my husband would travel to the village—a half a day's walk from here—to meet with other men from the area and learn the news. But since he left I've heard nothing. All I know is that the Kingsmen came here three weeks ago. I think—" she paused. "I think that must mean that they have taken this area."

"Keep hope, Amna," said the Doctor, resting his hand on his jacket, which still hung over a chair. Beneath his fingers lay the parchment. "I have a strong feeling that things will improve soon."

A whimper drew their attention to Erran's bed, where he lay upon his back. His small, pale brow was furrowed, and his hands moved at his sides.

"He's dreaming again," said Amna tiredly.

Tegan could not block out the whispers with her hands or with the quilt. They grew louder, and after a time she began to hear words.

She sat upright with a gasp. Again she had heard a child calling for help. The Doctor had been wrong; the child was still in the lake. He was crying out as before: "Help! I'm in the water! Mama! Help me!"

Tegan pushed the quilt to the floor and stood listening. "I'm coming!" she called as she stumbled out of the room.

The Doctor caught her by the shoulders as she headed for the front door.

"Tegan! What are you doing?" he asked.

"I have to go!" she said frantically. "He's still in the lake! Can't you hear him calling?" She twisted away and reached for the bar on the door.

The Doctor grasped her arm. "I don't hear anything," he said. "Come back to bed. You're still half-asleep."

She had a dazed look in her eyes that indicated stupor. He pulled her away from the door.

"No!" she cried. "He's calling for help! I can't just leave him!"

"Tegan," the Doctor said firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "there is no one calling you." He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Come on, wake up! Listen. There's nothing to hear."

As if to disprove his words, Erran whimpered from his bed.

Tegan's eyes shot fully open, and her head jerked up. "What…" she began, obviously confused.

"It's all right," said the Doctor, "you've just had a dream." He lead her back to the bedroom and settled her among the quilts. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you when it's time to eat."

"But I thought I heard him," she said softly. "It seemed so real…"

The Doctor touched her forehead with a melancholy smile. "Sometimes I imagine that it does. Sleep, Tegan, just sleep."

When he returned to the kitchen, he found Amna sitting in a chair with Erran on her lap. His eyes were half-closed, and he was drowsy.

"Tegan was dreaming too?" she asked.

"Yes." The Doctor sat heavily.

Erran lifted a hand half-way, murmuring, "… waher… mama… waher."

The Doctor watched the child for a moment. "What are his dreams about?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, but he often calls out for help."

"He said 'waher'—is that water?" asked the Doctor.

She nodded. "Yes. That was part of his fright when the soldiers came."

"It involved water?" he repeated, sitting up straighter.

"Yes."

"Amna, I want you to tell me exactly what happened."

"I already told you—"

"No, I need every detail. Please. If I am to help him, I must know."

She carried Erran to his bed and tucked the covers around him then returned to the table.

"Soldiers came," she began, her voice shaking slightly. "I saw them coming. I was just returning from the barn, and I could see them over the small rise. They were Kingsmen; I could tell from the blue they wore. Kingsmen are not kind to Briars, and women and children aren't spared their wrath. My husband warned me about them. They follow the king blindly. And Erran is all I have—my husband may be dead." She paused to blink back tears.

"So I ran back into the house. I threw some things about to make it appear that other soldiers had already been here and that we had gone, then I took Erran out behind the house. I knew that we had to hide, to find some place where we would be safe. My husband dug a well in front of the house three years ago, but there is an old well shaft back there." She gestured toward the back of the building. "I lowered the bucket into the well with Erran in it. The well had dried up; there shouldn't have been any water in it. I hid in the woods nearby, and I waited. I heard the soldiers in the house, looking through things, taking what they wanted. They went to the barn and killed most of my chickens—my poor hens, who laid such good eggs for Erran and me—" She swallowed.

"And what happened to Erran?" asked the Doctor.

"The bucket slipped, and… there was water in the well. It must have collected there during the rainy season. I had told Erran not to make a sound, not to speak until I came for him. And he stayed quiet, he stayed in the cold water, in the dark, for such a long time." She brushed a tear from her cheek. "And he never made a sound, even when he was going under, when his legs got too tired, and he started to slip under the water."

"But you got him out."

She nodded, tears now flowing freely. "As soon as I heard the soldiers leave, I went to the well. I didn't know… I had no idea that he was in the water… and when I brought the bucket up and it was empty… oh lord, I thought he was dead." She stopped to take a deep breath. "But I called to him, and I lowered the bucket again, and somehow he was able to catch hold of it. I pulled him up, but he was so cold, so frightened, and he thought I had forgotten him, as if I could forget him—"

"And he has not spoken to you since then?"

She shook her head. "And he has had the dreams."

"Was he dreaming shortly before Tegan and I arrived here?"

She nodded.

He continued, "His dreams are about being in the water, about wanting to call for help, crying out in his mind—"

The Doctor's confirmation of Amna's own thoughts caused her to weep openly; she bent her head into her hands. After a moment, the Doctor rested a hand on her back. "It's all right, Amna," he said, standing. "I can help him."

She looked up at him. "Truly?"

He nodded as he stood. "But I need to speak with Tegan first."

Tegan's eyes were closed, but she was fully awake. The child's voice, which she had heard so clearly, still echoed through her mind. It had been so distinct; how could she have imagined it? Yet when she recalled the past twenty-four hours—the shadows, the whispers of the leaves—she began to wonder…

"Tegan." The Doctor's voice made her start slightly.

She opened her eyes to acknowledge him.

"Come with me," he said.

"Where?"

"There is someone I want you to meet."

Tegan got out of bed and followed him into the kitchen. Amna had returned to the stove, but she turned to her guests with a small smile. The Doctor steered Tegan toward the alcove and gestured to Erran.

"This is Amna's son, Erran," he said softly.

Tegan looked at the child blankly for a moment then she pressed a hand over her mouth. "Oh!"

"He is familiar to you, isn't he?"

She nodded. "That's him. He's the one who was crying for help."

"But you never saw him."

She shook her head. "No, not directly. But it's him, Doctor, I know it is. Is he all right? How did he get out of the lake?"

The Doctor led her back to the table. Amna had ladled soup into a bowl and set it before her, but Tegan did not touch it. She placed her shaking hands on the table and looked back at the child.

The Doctor followed her gaze and said, "He was never in the lake."

"What?" Tegan was clearly confused.

"He was dreaming about being trapped in the water, however."

"I don't understand."

"I believe, Tegan," said the Time Lord, "that what you thought you heard was Erran's dream."

The young Australian blinked. "You mean like reading his mind?"

"Rather, yes."

"But how? And why? Why him?"

"I'll explain in a moment. But first you must tell me if you've heard other voices since we arrived on this planet. I know that you thought you saw someone in the woods—"

Tegan lowered her eyes. The Doctor's recent doubts about her mental stability still resonated; she hesitated to tell him the truth.

Sensing her reticence, he said, "I believe that you really did hear and possibly see things, but if I am to understand this fully you must be honest with me."

Tegan sighed. "All right. Since we arrived here, I felt like I heard the leaves rustling in the wind, and when I listened it sometimes sounded like voices. And I thought I saw shadows, just out of the corner of my eye, but when I would turn my head to look, they were gone."

"Tell me exactly when the voices were most prominent."

"The first time was when the soldiers came and took Turlough. I thought there was a second group—I could hear them, and I was sure I saw a glimpse through the trees… Then when I told you I'd seen someone in the woods earlier today. And I heard the little boy crying and calling out when I went to the lake and again just now."

The Doctor considered this information. Amna had quietly taken a seat across the room. She watched her guests raptly. After nearly a minute, the Doctor spoke.

"Close your eyes," he told Tegan.

"Why?" she asked skeptically.

"There is one small experiment I need to try before I can understand definitively what is happening."

Tegan complied as he rose and went to Amna. He whispered in her ear. She shook her head immediately, but he whispered again then glanced at Erran. Finally, with a pained expression on her face, she nodded and shut her eyes. The Doctor returned to Tegan.

Tegan heard the faint rustling again, then, quite suddenly, it grew louder and coalesced into whispers. The Doctor watched her face; her brow had wrinkled, and she shook her head slightly.

"What do you hear?" he asked very softly.

"A voice—it's a woman," she answered. "She's saying… she's sorry, she's sorry that she left him in the water, she didn't know—" Her eyes shot open and she stared at Amna. "It's you!"

Amna opened her eyes. They were wet with tears.

"Can you still hear her?" the Doctor asked Tegan.

"No," she replied.

He looked at Amna, saying, "You stopped remembering when you opened your eyes, didn't you?"

She nodded.

"Thank you," said the Doctor to her. "I'm sorry that I had to ask you to recall the event so vividly, but it was necessary for me to understand Tegan's ability."

Amna stood and went to Erran's bed, where she knelt next to her son to stroke his face.

"Doctor," said Tegan, "what's going on? Why was I able to hear her thoughts?"

The Time Lord fixed his eyes upon hers, studying her intently for a moment. She nearly cringed at the depth of his gaze.

"Hmm," he offered noncommittally when she wrenched her eyes away from his.

"Just tell me what you know," she said with mounting alarm and niggling irritation.

"The human mind, Tegan," he began, "is highly complex. Different theorists have formulated a number of analogies to explain its structure. Some view it much like a computer, with the capacity for long-term and short-term storage and access to information, while others visualize it as a series of layers to which a person has varying degrees of access. Of course these theorists are humans, too, so their conceptions are only partially accurate. In fact, the human mind consists of many strata and a tremendous number of potential connections, most of which the average person is not aware—"

"Look, Doctor," Tegan interjected, "I didn't ask for a lecture on psychology. Just explain what's happening to me."

"If you wish. I will try to phrase it in the simplest terms possible. In order to enter you mind, the Mara had to delve into some of the deepest recesses of your consciousness."

Tegan had paled slightly at the mention of the pernicious serpent, and now she opened her mouth to speak, but the Doctor stopped her.

"I told you that the Mara had left your mind; that is true. It is gone and cannot return. However, I'm afraid that it left a channel through your mind that has not closed entirely. This pathway is permitting you to access a very deep ability to perceive others' thoughts, which to you appear as shadows and words."

"But I didn't hear your thoughts or Turlough's—" she began.

The Doctor smiled thinly. "No, you wouldn't perceive my thoughts under these circumstances, but in fact you may have sensed some of Turlough's. I believe that only those thoughts accompanied by significant emotion have reached you. You told me that you heard voices when the soldiers came for Turlough. A part of that may have been him."

"But I never heard specific words until I went to the lake."

"Yes, that is rather curious. However, I imagine that the ability is, for some reason, growing stronger. It may have to do with the environment of this planet, which may stimulate your neurons, or it may be that once you were able to hear Erran's thoughts your abilities naturally expanded, much as learning to control a single, rarely used muscle can quickly lead to control of others around it."

Tegan shook her head. "I don't want it."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want this ability or skill or curse, or whatever you choose to call it. How do I get rid of it?"

"I can work with you under deep hypnosis to close the pathway—"

"Then let's do it." Tegan stood.

"No, Tegan," the Doctor said, "I will require some assistance from the TARDIS to accomplish this fully."

"But you can close it part way now?"

"Perhaps, but it will not be complete."

"I don't care. As long as it will make things quieter."

The Doctor thought for a moment. "I think it would be in the best interest of the Briars if we waited a while."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Tegan, this new ability that you possess may allow us to find the Briars' camp more easily. If you can sense the king's soldiers in the area, we will be able to avoid any confrontations. Indeed, you may be able to obtain information from them that will help the Briars—"

"No." Tegan's voice was firm.

"But this may turn the tide for the Briars—"

"Or it may turn the tide for my mind. Doctor, I feel like I'm going crazy. I just want this to stop."

"And I promise you that I will fix it, but Tegan, you may the best hope for Erran, for Amna, for all of the people here who seek peace. And remember that Turlough is out there somewhere, too."

Amna had listened to their conversation quietly, and now she was watching Tegan hopefully. "My husband," she said, "if only I knew where he was—"

"Tegan," said the Doctor, leaning in toward her, "if you do this it will be for them, and for all the others like them who have sacrificed so much during this war."

"I don't know," she began, "I don't know if I can. What if all the voices come in at once? I can barely handle one—"

The Doctor touched her arm. "I will be with you to help and guide you. I will see to it that you are not harmed by this."

Amna had stood and come forward. Now she knelt next to Tegan and said, "Please, Tegan, please."

Tegan drew a deep breath. She seemed to hear Amna's words echoing through her mind, and the name Kirn was spoken quite clearly.

"Kirn?" she repeated.

Amna gasped in surprise.

"That's your husband, right?" asked Tegan.

Amna nodded. "Yes."

Tegan felt a third set of eyes upon her. Erran sat up in his bed, watching her earnestly and sadly.

Tegan sighed heavily. "Fine," she said somewhat defeatedtly, "I'll do it, but you have to promise me, Doctor, that the minute this is over you'll close the pathway forever."

"Agreed."

The Doctor stood. "Now we should go. We still have some distance to travel and limited time in which to do so."

"Where are you going?" asked Amna.

The Doctor began to respond, but he hesitated. "I think it would be best if you didn't know, just in case you should be questioned."

Amna nodded. "I understand."

Tegan reached for her clothes, but Amna said, "I'll give you something to wear so that you won't stand out as you do in your garments. Come."

She led Tegan back to the bedroom as the Doctor withdrew the map from his pocket. He glanced at the bedroom door once with a slight creasing of his forehead then folded the parchment and returned it to his coat.


	5. Chapter 5

Turlough had struggled to keep up with the soldiers for the better part of an hour, but Gramond had ceased moving his legs. He lay slumped against Turlough, his feet dragging in the damp earth. Now the Trion lad was several yards behind the group.

Rundly turned around, calling, "Come on! Leave him. We still have a great deal of ground to cover before nightfall."

Turlough twisted his head to look at Gramond's ashen face. The man's eyes were closed.

"Gramond?" Turlough said, pausing to prod him gently with his finger.

There was no response. Turlough moved his hand to his charge's neck, feeling for a pulse beneath the clammy skin. A faint beat persisted despite the blood that soaked the bandages.

"Come on!" Rundly demanded again, this time beginning to move toward Turlough. "He's gone. Leave him."

"No," said Turlough," he's still alive. If I can just get him to the camp—"

"Leave him." The words were spoken firmly.

"But he's alive! I can't just leave him out here alone—"

"You can. You've already slowed us down more than we can afford. Drop him and come."

Turlough hesitated, watching Gramond's face for a moment. This was a living creature, a sentient being…

Suddenly Rundly's sword was pressed against Turlough's throat. "Drop him now," the soldier growled.

Turlough complied, easing Gramond onto the ground. The wounded man stirred slightly with a low moan, and his eyelids opened to reveal cloudy, dull irises. His mouth seemed to twist as if he wanted to speak.

Turlough began to bend toward him, but Rundly thrust the sword upward, nicking his chin. Turlough cried out, pressing his hand against the cut.

"The next one slices your throat," Rundly said.

Turlough looked at Rundly then back at Gramond. Swiftly Rundly lifted the sword and drove it into Gramond's chest. The injured man's eyes widened then immediately closed.

"Now he's gone," Rundly said flatly. "Slow us down again, or show me you aren't of any use to us, and the same will happen to you." He shoved his sword into the sheath at his hip and began walking. With a slight jerk of his head toward the dead soldier, he muttered, "He always talked too much anyway."

Turlough lowered his hand from his chin; his fingers were sticky and red. He glanced at the other soldiers. Several were looking at Gramond and Rundly with some discomfiture and abashment, but none spoke.

Fighting the nausea that churned in his stomach, Turlough forced his feet to carry him forward, hoping against hope that the Doctor would find him and remove him from this waking nightmare.

----------

When Tegan and Amna returned to the kitchen, they found the Doctor bending over Erran's bed in the small alcove. The child's eyes were closed, and the Time Lord was speaking softly to him. The women stood watching quietly for nearly a minute, then the Doctor turned to them with a smile. He beckoned Amna with his hand. She joined him next to the bed.

"Wake him," said the Doctor.

She spoke the little boy's name and gave him a soft caress against the cheek. His eyes opened, and he whispered, "Mama. I'm hungry."

"Erran!" She gathered him into a hug, her eyes moving to the Doctor's face with unspoken gratitude.

The Doctor walked back to the table, gesturing to the bowl of soup. "You should eat that before we go," he told Tegan.

She sat and took a spoonful. "What did you do?" she asked. "What was wrong with him?"

"He underwent a traumatic experience; he was still partially in shock from it. It caused a conversion reaction which left him mute."

Tegan swallowed and dipped the spoon again. "And you were able to help him?"

The Doctor nodded. "It was a simple matter of reassuring him at a subconscious level that he is safe now."

Amna led Erran to the table and ladled soup into a bowl for him. She filled another bowl and set it in front of the Doctor. Her hand trembled slightly as it left the bowl, hesitating over the Time Lord's arm. Finally she pressed her fingers against his sleeve, saying, "Thank you."

He nodded briefly. "We thank you, too."

She went into the pantry as the Doctor, Tegan, and Erran ate. The child looked up at Tegan with a shy smile.

She smiled back. "Your mother makes good soup," she said.

He nodded. "I helped her. I got the carrots."

"Then you're a good cook, too," Tegan responded.

Amna returned with a basket. In it she had placed several pieces of fruit resembling apples, some cookies, and a small chunk of smoked meat. "Take this on your journey," she said, handing it to the Doctor.

"That's very kind of you," he acknowledged. He glanced at Tegan's nearly empty bowl, then added, "We should go now. Tegan?"

Tegan stood, momentarily catching her foot in the long skirt she wore. She lifted the fabric slightly, muttering, "This will take some getting used to." She looked up at the Doctor. "You've changed back to your own clothes. Won't you stand out?"

"Not as much as you would," he replied, adjusting the celery in his lapel. He took the basket then turned back to Amna. "Thank you again."

"No, it is you who deserve the thanks," she said. "Please be safe."

As the Doctor stepped out the door, Tegan clasped Amna's hand with a smile of appreciation.

The Doctor and Tegan began to walk. The afternoon sun was lowering in the sky, casting shadows among the trees. Tegan blinked, scanning the darker areas anxiously.

"How can I tell which ones are shadows and which ones are images from people's thoughts?" she asked with mounting alarm. A slight breeze rustled the leaves, and she looked up, adding, "And the leaves—when I hear them, how do I know if it's just the wind or someone nearby?"

"You will have to focus," the Doctor said calmly yet firmly. "You were able to discern words from Erran's and Amna's thoughts; this means that your ability is growing more refined. If you concentrate, you should be able to hear words clearly and see images, not just whispers and shadows."

"I don't know," Tegan said hesitantly. "What if there's more than one person, and all of their thoughts come at me at the same time? How can I hear what each person's thinking? It's going to be a huge mess of sounds and images—" Her words had become more staccato.

"Tegan," said the Doctor, "calm down. Take a breath. The first thing you must do is remain calm. If you're agitated you won't be able to concentrate."

"How can I be calm when I know that I'm going to have to hear the thoughts of lord only knows how many people? Do you have any idea what that could be like?"

"Yes, I think I do. It is rather like being in a room full of people, all of whom are talking. But you are conversing with just one person, so you focus your attention on him or her and effectively filter out all of the others. That is what you will have to do."

"But how can I focus on someone I can't even see?"

The Doctor placed his hands on Tegan's shoulders, saying, "Close your eyes for a moment."

She frowned but obliged.

"Now tell me what you hear."

"A bird chirping… another bird… some leaves moving over there," she cocked her head, "and you breathing."

"Now you hear my voice. As you listen to me, you are not fully aware of the other sounds, are you? You can attend to my voice without interference from the other noises."

Tegan opened her eyes. "But that's not the same—" she began.

"Actually, it is very similar. You simply need to learn how to concentrate on a single person's thoughts, just as you were able to concentrate on my voice in the presence of other noises. The human brain is really quite adept at this process."

"Well, maybe mine isn't."

"Of course it is. Now we must continue moving. It would be best if we reached the Briars' main camp by nightfall. Try to stay alert, and tell me the moment you hear or see anything out of the ordinary."

With a mild shake of her head, Tegan followed the Doctor through the trees.

----------

The small group of Kingsmen had walked briskly since Turlough had left Gramond. Rundly pushed them forward, occasionally cuffing any man who complained of hunger or thirst. Turlough stayed with the soldiers, but he remained vigilant for any possible opportunities for escape. If he could get away from these men and find the TARDIS again, he would be safe.

Unfortunately, he had lost track of the direction of the group's travel in his efforts to attend to Gramond. Even if he did manage to escape, he was unsure in which direction he would go. Silently he berated himself for his failure to observe the soldiers' movements. Perhaps he could retrace their steps. Swallowing back bile, he thought that he could always follow the trail of Gramond's blood.

Rundly had sent a scout ahead, and now the man hurried back to the group. "Up there," he panted, "just beyond those trees, are a dozen Briars. They look as though they're moving toward the base camp."

Several soldiers lifted their weapons, commenting, "Let's go," and "We can take them!"

Turlough's stomach lurched again. Frantically he looked about, trying to find any chance for slipping away. Perhaps when the men marched forward he could duck away, shielded temporarily from notice by their zeal.

"Wait," Rundly ordered, holding up his hand. "If they are going to the main camp they can lead us directly to it. We know it's near the mountains, but we don't know exactly where. For now we'll stay back and watch them."

"But Rundly," objected a burly fellow with dried blood smeared across his tunic, "if we kill them, there are a dozen fewer Briars for tomorrow's battle, and more weapons for us—"

"And if we can't find their camp in time for the assault we won't help the king at all," Rundly said. "We'll wait until we see the camp, then we'll take them."

He lead the group ahead. Turlough began to lag slightly behind, intending to dash away at the first opportune moment. However, Rundly's eyes returned to the young man often. The moment Turlough had permitted himself to stray behind the last man, Rundly stormed back, grabbing him roughly by the ear and jerking him forward.

"You've already cost us valuable time," he growled. "I won't have you wasting any more. Come on." He withdrew a dagger from his boot and thrust the stout handle sharply into Turlough's back, threatening, "Fall behind again, and you'll feel the blade."

Turlough quickened his pace, rapidly losing hope of ever seeing his friends again.

----------

The continued rustling of the leaves beneath Tegan's feet irritated her more with each step. She had grown to dread the susurration. Every rustle might be a wisp of someone's thought.

"How much further is it?" she asked testily.

"We still have some distance to go," answered the Doctor. He glanced over his shoulder at her; she was several paces behind him. "Are you getting tired?"

"You could say that," she replied tersely.

He stopped and turned toward her. "We really have to keep moving. If we don't deliver this message by daybreak, we won't be able to prevent the attack."

"I just need to stop for a minute," she said somewhat breathlessly.

He studied her face for a moment. She was still pale, and she seemed to breathe rapidly and shallowly. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"No," she snapped, "I'm not. I nearly drowned, and the Mara left my brain open to the world, and I can't tell when I'm going to hear the thoughts of some soldier, and what they might be if I do, and if I see a shadow I just about jump out of my skin—" She was nearly panting.

"Tegan," the Doctor admonished, "you're hyperventilating. You have to calm down." He lowered her to the ground then crouched beside her. "Take a small breath through your nose. That's it, now another."

She hugged her knees to her chest as she steadied her breathing. "I don't think I can do this," she said.

"Of course you can. Breathing is an autonomic function—"

"No, not that. I mean I don't think I can help the Briars. This isn't going to work. Just point the way back to the TARDIS—"

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You've gotten us lost again?"

"No, I haven't. I know exactly where we are. But you and I are both necessary to the Briars. I have a very strong feeling that they cannot win this war without us."

"It's just too much," she said wearily.

"Tegan, you have already used your abilities to help Erran. If you hadn't heard him crying out we wouldn't have found him and Amna. He was ill, but thanks to you he's fine now. In this one small way you've changed his and Amna's lives for the better. It is within your capability now to help this entire society. You can help defeat the Kingsmen and reunite this planet."

"That's an awful lot of responsibility for one Australian air hostess," she lamented mordantly.

"Yes, it is, but I have every confidence that you can do it. And I told you before that I will help you. I will do everything I can to assist you in using your abilities—"

Tegan had turned her head to the side, and her eyes seemed to dull and lose their focus despite her obvious efforts at squinting. "I hear something," she whispered.

The Doctor quickly looked about. He strained to discern faint voices in the distance.

"Try to concentrate for a moment," he said. "Just focus your mind on the vague words you hear and the shadows you see."

Tegan took a breath and tried to listen, but all she heard were the gentle sounds of nature—a bird chirping, a few leaves moving, a whisper of wind… She strained to hear the whisper, but she realized that it did not emanate from outside of her as did the other noises. Suddenly she felt the sound resonate within her own mind. She forced her attention to cling to the whisper, and after a moment a few of the words were clear: "So much blood… might die… Serla, Lahn, Marden… Caramond… serve the king."

A shadow seemed to flash just beyond her line of vision. Tegan moved her eyes toward it, but then realized that, like the words, it existed inside her mind. She lowered her eyes and willed the shadow to materialize before her. She saw several men lying on the ground, their clothes soaked with blood. She saw a sword, then three faces—a dark-haired woman, a small girl, and a boy—flickered before her. There was a glimpse of a high, stone castle, and a glitter of coins.

The images faded quickly, seeming to twist away from Tegan in a rapid spiral. She blinked and shook her head, feeling slightly dizzy. She pressed her fingers to her temples.

"Did you hear anything?" asked the Doctor, his voice taking a moment to reach her.

She blinked again. "Yes—something about blood, and some names, and the words 'serve the king'."

"And did you see anything?"

She nodded. "Men—I think they were dead, they were bloody—and some faces, a woman and two children, and a castle, then a few coins."

"All words and images associated with this war. I think that at least one soldier is somewhere nearby. We need to find a place to hide."

He took Tegan's arm and led her back into a dense copse of trees. They crouched among the evergreens.

"Did the words appear to come from a single person or from several?" asked the Doctor.

Tegan looked at him. "I don't know. They were just words— I couldn't tell who said them."

Now the Doctor could hear voices in the distance; they grew louder. "Tegan," he whispered, "concentrate. This time try to distinguish among the individuals' thoughts."

She opened her mouth to ask how she should do this, but he held a finger to his lips. Tegan sank down on the ground as the whispers began again. Words and images similar to those she had perceived a few minutes earlier entered her mind. They seemed to swirl about, making it difficult to disentangle them from each other. She sensed that there were more words and a greater number of images, but her efforts to pull them apart only resulted in a throbbing in her skull She closed her eyes and bent her head.

The Doctor watched as six soldiers clad in Kingsmen attire passed by the copse. They walked quickly and purposefully. All appeared battle-weary with dark patches of dried blood on their tunics. Yet most of their faces had the determined look of men with a singular purpose. Two of the soldiers, however, appeared less stolid. One was a very young man whose arm was in a sling. A deep gash split his cheek, and his expression conveyed pain. The other was older and did not appear physically injured, but his face had the pinched look of one in emotional turmoil.

The Doctor continued to watch until the men were well out of sight. He turned back to Tegan to find her hunched over, hands clenched tightly into fists. Her head was bent, and her body appeared rigid.

"Tegan," he said softly. She did not respond. He touched her shoulder lightly, then wrapped his hand around it more firmly. "Tegan, they're gone," he told her.

Slowly she raised her head to look at him. She blinked. "I can still hear them," she murmured.

He nodded. "I imagine that you will until they have moved further away. But I want you to focus your attention on me now."

She squinted and rubbed at her forehead. He bent so that his face was directly in front of hers. "Tegan," he said evenly, "look at me and listen only to my voice."

Her eyes moved to his, and she nodded.

"Tell me what you heard."

"Pretty much the same things as before, only there was more of it. There were so many words—I couldn't tell them apart. And the images were just fragments, little bits of things—swords, faces, trees."

"Two of the soldiers appeared to be upset. The others seemed calmer. I think that you perceived the thoughts of these two men. So now we know that you will need to work on distinguishing among thoughts when there is more than one person involved."

"I tried," she said earnestly, "I really did, but it just made my head hurt." She rubbed her forehead again.

"Yes, I imagine that is due to the stress you're experiencing from your efforts." He stood and took her hand to help her rise. "Try to stay calm and just allow the words and images to come."

Tegan shook her head. "Easy for you to say."

The Doctor looked in the direction the soldiers had gone. "They appear to be heading toward the Briars' camp. Come on. We need to get there before they do."

Still massaging her throbbing head, Tegan trudged along behind him.

----------

As the daylight faded, Rundly's troop increased their pace. In the distance Turlough could see a faint glow. Rundly told the men that it was a fire from the camp where they would spend the night. This would position them only a few kilometers from the Briars' headquarters. In the morning they would move en masse on the enemy's main camp, joining others troops for a surprise attack.

Somehow Turlough had survived the assault on the small Briar group that the scout had spotted. The Kingsmen had crept up on the tired soldiers, assailing them unexpectedly. Turlough had watched as swords and daggers dispatched Briar soldiers quickly. He had tried to keep back, hoping to creep away, but Rundly had thrust him toward a Briar soldier immediately. Fortunately for Turlough, his opponent was already injured, and their struggle was somewhat brief. The man collapsed from the effort of fighting, falling at Turlough's feet. One of Rundly's men had been killed, but the others walked away nearly unscathed.

Now the impending darkness gave Turlough a small shred of hope for escape. Surely Rundly would not remain awake all night long. Under the cover of night, Turlough just might be able to slip away. He was exhausted, grimy, and thirsty, but this vague hope kept him moving steadily. Indeed, he found himself a few paces ahead of Rundly.

"Back here, next to me," Rundly ordered suddenly.

Turlough turned. "Me?" he asked. "But you told me to keep up."

"Keep up, not ahead," Rundly said sharply.

Turlough slowed his steps until Rundly was beside him. He felt the soldier grip his arm, hard, and jerk him back. "I know what you're planning," the Kingsman growled softly. "I won't warn you again. Try to run and you get my dagger in your back."

Turlough sighed. "Run? And miss this party? I don't think so."

Unexpectedly, Rundly's hand shot up to strike Turlough's cheek. The young man recoiled at the force of the blow, clapping his own hand to his face with a gasp.

"Keep quiet," Rundly said.

Turlough continued walking, his determination to escape growing stronger with each moment.

---------

Tegan and the Doctor had walked briskly for more than an hour. She had heard no more rustling and had seen no shadows for some time. Her head had ceased throbbing and now ached dully, but she was weary. She did not realize that she had slowed until the Doctor turned back to address her.

"Do you hear something?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. I'm just getting tired. How much further do we have to walk today? It's going to be dark soon."

"Yes, it is. I'm afraid that we can't allow the darkness to deter us, however. We must reach the Briars' camp before morning."

"Doctor, I can't walk all night," Tegan said somewhat plaintively. "And you said earlier that travelling in the dark isn't safe."

"We don't have much choice."

The Time Lord still carried Amna's basket in his hand. He glanced down at it. "Let's rest for a few minutes. Have something to eat. I'm sure you'll feel better after that."

Tegan sank down to sit cross-legged on the leafy ground. The Doctor handed her a piece of fruit. She felt too exhausted to eat, but once she had taken a bite, she realized that she was ravenous. She devoured the fruit quickly, then ate some of the smoked meat.

"Are there any biscuits?" she asked, peering into the basket.

The Doctor gave her one of Amna's sugared cookies, which Tegan found to be delicious.

When she had finished, he asked, "Are you feeling better now?"

Tegan swallowed the last bite of cookie. "I'm not hungry anymore, but I'm still tired."

"The food will give you some energy soon. We need to go now."

Tegan stood slowly. "How are we going to find our way in the dark?" she asked.

"I know the direction in which we need to travel, and I see in the dark rather well—better than you, at any rate."

Tegan rolled her eyes. "Of course you do," she conceded. "But how can you tell which direction we're going?"

"By the lichen on the trees," he replied simply. He had already begun walking and did not appear interested in offering additional information.

They moved quietly for some time. The light faded completely, and the woods grew dark. Tegan stumbled several times over small branches and rocks in their path. One particularly large stone caused her to fall forward completely, landing on her hands and knees.

"Cripes!" she muttered.

The Doctor stopped to help her up. "Are you all right?"

She brushed leaves from her long skirt. "I'd be a lot better if I had my own clothes. I don't know how women walked in these things!"

The Doctor had paid little attention to her attire, simply noting that it was similar to Amna's. However, now he noticed that she wore a pale blue dress. The bodice was square and adorned with fine embroidery. The sleeves were narrow at the shoulder but fuller as they flowed down toward her wrists. The same delicate embroidery decorated the cuffs in a pattern of berries and vines. The dress had a full skirt that swept the ground. Surprisingly, the garment fit Tegan well, almost as though it had been made for her. The bodice was snug, while the skirt seemed to pour fluidly over her hips.

"Doctor?"

Tegan's voice broke him from his brief reverie.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"You've been staring at my dress for nearly a minute."

"Have I? The embroidery is quite extraordinary, don't you think?"

Tegan lifted her arm to examine the stitching in the dull light. "It looks pretty, but I can't really see it. Since when do you appreciate needlework?"

"There are many forms of beauty, Tegan. I generally appreciate all of them."

She shrugged. "Well, pretty as it may be, this thing is still hard to walk in, and I feel ridiculous in it."

"Actually, you appear rather fetching."

Tegan blinked in surprise, and her cheeks grew warm. "Come on," she said, lifting her skirt slightly and plowing ahead. "Like you said, we have a lot of ground to cover."

----------

The Kingsmen's camp was large. At least two hundred soldiers had gathered for the night, and more were coming in from several directions. A great fire burned in the center, and men milled about, talking, eating, some tending to wounds in the flickering light. A dozen or so soldiers appeared to be the leaders of their groups, and these men were gathered near the fire. As soon as Rundly's band entered the camp, he straightened and hailed the cadre by the fire. Before joining them, however, he turned to Turlough.

"Keep within my sight," he warned. "Watch him," he instructed the other members of his troop. "If he even steps away, use your sword."

Turlough sank to the ground to sit. "Look, I'm too tired to go anywhere. I just want to rest and have something to eat."

"Stay there," Rundly said gruffly. "Dran, bring back some food for him. Be ready to march just before dawn."

Rundly swaggered off toward the fire. The other men, minus Dran, who had gone to get some sustenance, sat around Turlough. He tried to remain calm, but his chances of escape appeared to grow dimmer by the moment. Perhaps if the others fell asleep… He would have to wait; there was nothing else he could do.


	6. Chapter 6

Tegan and the Doctor had walked through the dark woods for several hours. The Australian was exhausted. She stumbled more and more often as the night wore on. Her head still ached, and she felt on edge continuously, waiting for the whispers to begin, nearly jumping with each small sound the woods produced.

The Doctor plowed ahead, offering occasional verbal encouragement to her but appearing oblivious to her fatigue and anxiety. A few audible and dramatic sighs from her had elicited no response from him, so now she simply walked in silence, still poised tensely on the edge of sensation.

After some time the Doctor turned to his companion and asked, "Do you hear anything?"

She shook her head. "No."

He frowned. "Where have those soldiers gone? We've kept up a good, steady pace. They can't be too far ahead of us. They appeared to be going in the direction of the Briars' camp. You haven't sensed anything?"

"I'd tell you if I had," Tegan replied tiredly.

"Perhaps they veered off to the north," he mused. "A surprise attack could come from any direction…"

"Maybe I can't hear them anymore. Maybe I'm just too tired."

The Doctor looked at her pointedly. She was clearly exhausted; her skin was sallow, and he could see a faint layer of perspiration on her cheeks and forehead despite the chill of the night air. There was a vague look of pain in her eyes, as well. As if to confirm this observation, Tegan rubbed her hand across the back of her neck.

"Does you head still hurt?" he asked.

She nodded. He placed his hand at the base of her skull. He could feel the rigidity of her muscles beneath his fingers. He massaged her neck gently with his thumb, asking, "Better?" after half a minute or so.

"A little," she admitted.

"Good. Now I want you to concentrate. Can you hear anything?"

Tegan closed her eyes as he continued to rub softly at her nape and scalp. The movement of his fingers was soothing and somehow calmed her considerably. She could hear a light brushing sound as his thumb moved in small circles over her skin. The sound seemed to grow louder, and she wondered if he had changed his motions. Suddenly Tegan's neck stiffened. The noise had shifted and become a harsh whisper. Audible words hovered at the edge of her consciousness.

"Tegan?" asked the Doctor, sensing the change in her posture.

"I hear something," she muttered.

He made a comment about concentrating, but the sharp whispers occluded his words. The voices were louder and stronger than she had ever heard them. She could sense that many people's thoughts were bombarding her. Disparate words seemed to rush toward her discordantly. She heard names, expletives, snatches of phrases—an infinite number of utterances blending together. Then the images flashed before her: faces, forest, houses, blood.

Tegan sank to her knees. Words and images were swirling about her, ceaselessly in confusion, a cacophony within her mind. Yet one tiny fragment seemed to catch her attention momentarily. For just a second she heard "Doctor" and "TARDIS", and her own face floated before her. She gasped.

"Tegan!" Her name was spoken urgently; the sound was different from the other voices she heard. Somehow she managed to shift her attention and pull away from the frenetic words and images.

The Doctor was kneeling next to her clasping her cheeks in his hands. He said her name again.

"Doctor?" she asked, unsure at first whether his face before her was real.

"Yes, Tegan, I'm right here. You must focus on me now."

She blinked, forcing herself to attend to her companion. Through sheer force of will, she pulled her attention from the noisy mire and locked her gaze on the Doctor.

"I heard your name, and I saw my face," she murmured.

The Doctor nodded in immediate understanding. "Turlough must be nearby."

"But Doctor," Tegan said, "there were so many other voices and images. I couldn't make any sense of them. They all just ran together—"

"Yes? There must be a large group of people in the area. Could you tell if they were soldiers or civilians?"

Tegan thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. I heard a lot of names, and cursing, and I saw faces and blood."

"That sounds like soldiers' thoughts."

"I guess." Tegan squinted as the images and words crept back toward her. She shook her head as if this motion could delay the onslaught.

"Try to stay with me," the Doctor said.

His words barely registered with her. "I don't think I can," she lamented as the voices enveloped her once again.

----------

Turlough's hopes of slipping away from the camp had nearly disappeared. He sat surrounded by Rundly's men, who watched him warily. A few of the soldiers had begun to doze, but most remained alert, obviously excited about the impending battle. They talked about their strategies, their prowess as soldiers, and the certainty of a victory over the Briars.

The discussion grew in intensity, and Turlough noticed that his companions' attention had shifted to the battle talk. For a few moments no one was watching him directly. He glanced toward the edge of the woods, a mere five meters to his left. The glow of the firelight extended only to the circumference of the circle where he sat. If he could just move away into the darkness, he might have a chance to run into the woods.

He leaned casually to the side, placing his hand next to his thigh. No one noticed this small movement, so he stretched his hand out further, pulling his legs slowly back, inching toward the dimness. He shifted again, and his arm, head, and shoulders were covered in shadow. He glanced back at the men. Still no one appeared to watch him directly. Turlough swung his legs around quickly and began to stand.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Rundly's angry voice rose over the soldiers' discussion.

Turlough considered briefly sprinting into the trees. However, Rundly was storming toward him, covering the distance between them ludicrously fast. Turlough seemed reduced to slow-motion, and his feet tangled into each other. He stumbled to his knees.

Rundly grabbed Turlough's hair and pulled him up, jerking his head back painfully. "I asked where you're going," the soldier snarled.

"To relieve myself," Turlough said, forcing his voice to sound nonchalant. "Surely I'm permitted to do that?"

"Not by yourself you aren't," Rundly said roughly. "For all I know you're planning to go to the Briars' camp and warn them."

"Now why would I do that?" Turlough asked ingenuously.

Rundly's eyes narrowed. "Don't test my patience, boy." He clapped his hand over the sword at his side. "It's already running thin."

Turlough shrugged and turned back toward the soldiers, but Rundly slammed a hand against his chest. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he snapped.

"What?"

"Why you came out here."

"Oh, right." Turlough turned and took a step, but Rundly restrained him again.

"I told you, you don't go alone."

"You're going to watch me?"

Rundly grunted in assent.

"Thanks anyway," Turlough said, "but I think I can wait."

"I'll bet you can," Rundly scoffed. He gave Turlough another hard shove back toward the soldiers, then pushed him to the ground. "Don't get up again," he warned, then he turned to his men and issued a stern directive about watching Turlough.

Now many eyes were upon Turlough, and he noticed that several soldiers had withdrawn their knives and daggers. Fear began to gnaw at his stomach as thoughts of the morning's activities raced through his mind. He would be in the midst of a massive battle, and he would have no choice except to fight.

His eyes darted around the camp then toward the edge of the forest. Turlough raised his knees and hugged them, lowering his head as he murmured, "Doctor, where are you?"

----------

Tegan was lost in the words and images that enveloped her. She felt as though she stood in the center of a tempest, assailed by the thoughts of others swirling, rushing, and darting past her. Somehow she had managed to find the eye of the storm, where she could stand somewhat safely while the voices and visions swept all around her.

After a time, she found that she could listen to a single voice long enough to hear a thought, and she could watch a fleeting image and slow it so that she was able to see a face or a battle clearly for several seconds. She caught glimpses of the lives of many people—wives, children, parents, weddings, fights, lovemaking, meals. Scenes of war constantly intruded into these more mundane events, and Tegan felt herself flinch repeatedly at the wanton carnage that she saw. Thankfully, she was able to focus upon other images quickly, so she was not subjected to battle scenes continuously.

Amid the voices she heard the word "TARDIS" again, and she focused upon it, honing in on the sound.

"Doctor, where are you?" She felt herself twitch in surprise as she recognized Turlough's voice. She continued listening, and images crept toward her, too. She saw the Doctor's face again and the TARDIS. The boys' school in England where Turlough had met them also seemed to materialize before her for an instant. The image shifted abruptly, twisting to several men lying bloodied upon the ground. She saw a sword slash upward then blood dotting the fingers on a pale hand. She heard the name Rundly and caught a flash of a large fire with men sitting around it. "Briars… morning surprise attack… impossible to get away."

Tegan tried to inch closer to Turlough's thoughts. She pushed the others away and reached toward his alone. She sensed her mind narrowing, focusing more intently. If she could just hear more about the attack, she might gain some useful information—

"Tegan!" The voice echoing through her head was not Turlough's anymore.

"No," she murmured, "I have to listen to him."

"Listen to me, Tegan. You have to concentrate on me," the Doctor adjured.

Tegan felt as though she were crawling through a tunnel of muddied images and muffled words. She had to pull herself nearly bodily back to the floor of the forest, where she was huddled against the Time Lord. He was shaking her shoulders and touching at her face. She tried to push his hands away.

"Can you hear me?" he was asking.

She nodded and leaned away from him to rest her aching head in her hands. "I heard Turlough this time," she said without looking up. "I could tell it was him, and I listened."

"You were able to focus on one person. That's very good, Tegan. It means that you're gaining some control over your abilities. What was he thinking of?"

"You, and the TARDIS, and school. He's been in a battle, too."

"Is he all right?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. I saw some blood that I think was on his hand."

The Doctor frowned. "Was there anything else?"

Tegan found that her recollection of Turlough's and the others' thoughts was ephemeral. She struggled to recall the last words she had heard. "There was something about an attack… on the Briars, I think. He wants to get away, but he can't."

"Can you recall anything else?"

Tegan shut her eyes, but immediately images began slipping toward her. She sighed and looked up at the Doctor. "They won't leave me alone," she said softly.

"I know," her companion confirmed. "Now that you've gained access to this ability, it has grown quickly. You need to work to keep your mind occupied with other things when you don't need to use your skill."

"And just how am I supposed to do that?" Tegan asked. "They just come at me—"

"That is not entirely true. I've noticed that the perceptions appeared to be triggered by subtle sounds from the environment. When you and I are talking, you don't hear the voices or see the images as readily. So we shall simply have to keep up a conversation until you need to listen to the voices again."

"Oh, tremendous," she muttered, "non-stop conversation. Not that I don't like to talk—I guess I can go on sometimes, but I'm not really in the mood right now. Anyway, what's so interesting that it's going to keep us talking?"

"Why Tegan," the Doctor said, standing and taking her hand to help her rise, "there are infinite topics that we can discuss: literature, geography, linguistics, culture, physics, biochemistry—"

"How about fashion or music?" she retorted. "Trust me, my mind is wandering already at the thought of a discussion of physics or linguistics."

"We can talk about whatever you like," he said with a small smile. "But before we do, I want you to try to remember anything else you got from Turlough."

Tegan touched the embroidery on her sleeve to keep her attention away from the images at the edge of her consciousness. In the moonlight she could see that the pattern consisted of vines with clusters of berries. The vines reminded her of thorns, which sparked a faint memory. "The surprise attack on the Briars," she said slowly, "is going to be first thing in the morning. And Doctor," she added, taking a breath, "there were a lot of soldiers with him—and I mean a lot."

"Then he's definitely with the Kingsmen, just as we thought," said the Doctor, taking Tegan's arm to urge her forward. "We must find the Briars' camp before daylight and warn them. We could be their only chance. Now," he said, lightening his tone, "let's talk about music. Do you prefer Chopin or Schubert?"

"Actually," she replied, "I really prefer Adam and the Ants or Ultravox, and I just recently heard this great band called Depeche Mode…"

She elucidated the Doctor about the finer points of punk and new wave as they walked through the darkness.

----------

Tegan had tried to concentrate on her impromptu lecture. She found some small, perverse pleasure in watching the Doctor's expression as she described the music she listened to on London radio. However, after less than thirty minutes, she found that voices and images surrounded her. Nearly all of her focus and mental efforts were needed simply to keep walking. She ceased speaking.

"Tegan?" the Doctor asked after a few seconds of silence from his companion.

He turned to look at her. She had balled her hands into fists, and she was squinting as if trying to see something indefinable in the dim light. Her body was growing rigid as if she were trying to resist some tangible object nearing her.

"I can't keep them away anymore," she mumbled, already outwardly dazed.

"We must be very near to them," the Doctor responded.

Tegan did not appear to hear him. He guided her toward a bushy tree and eased her to the ground, settling her back against the trunk and arranging several branches so that they covered her partially. Then he walked quickly ahead, listening carefully for any signs of a large group nearby.

Soon he saw the glow of a fire. His acute ears discerned a multitude of voices, although he could not distinguish their words. He crept closer, keeping behind bushes and trees as much as possible, realizing that his pale clothing might be visible in the moonlight.

As he neared the camp, the Doctor could make out a considerable group of men; he estimated close to three hundred. He did not know how many soldiers were at the Briars' camp, but this force was clearly a strong one. He could see various weapons glinting in the firelight. He tried to look among the group for any signs of Turlough, but there were too many people and insufficient light to identify the Trion lad.

He did not know how much further the Briars' camp was, either. He knew that it was at the base of three mountains, but in the darkness he could not tell how far those mountains were. Perhaps he could find some indication of the camp by ascending a hill for a better view. Quietly he climbed up a rocky rise, remaining low to avoid being seen. At the top he paused to look out over the land. In the distance he saw a faint glow. Scanning to his left, another small light caught his eye. Still a third was visible to the far right. He made a quick mental calculation and determined that the lights to his left and right were closer than the one that lay nearly straight ahead. With a sinking feeling, he realized that the Kingsmen likely had two other large encampments, all of which would attack the Briars in the morning. The third light was probably from the Briars' base camp. This he estimated to be some four kilometers away.

The Time Lord hurried back to Tegan. He found her huddled beneath the tree, hugging her knees to her chest. Her eyes were focused inwardly, and the words he spoke to her did not appear to register. Given the number of men nearby, he was not surprised by her unresponsiveness. He knew that she was enmeshed in the thoughts of nearly three hundred individuals.

Taking Tegan's arm, the Doctor pulled her gently to her feet and led her beside him as he began walking rapidly toward the furthest light. She appeared oblivious to their movement and to his efforts to speak to her. After a time, he simply focused on moving her forward, trying not to consider the possibility that he might be unable to draw her back to her own thoughts and mind.

----------

Turlough was exhausted, but he did not try to sleep. His thoughts raced, desperately considering options for escape. He was thoroughly surrounded, so slipping away was impossible. Could he somehow elude the men once they began to march in the morning? If the entire group was marching together, he might be able to lose himself in the shuffle. But he doubted that Rundly would permit him out of his sight.

So the next best plan would be to wait until the fighting began then flee the moment Rundly's back was turned. He wished he knew more about the battle plan. Perhaps he could formulate his own strategy if he knew what the Kingsmen's tactics were.

The soldiers had been talking about various topics as the night wore on. He had heard little concrete discussion about specifics of the morning's fight, however. Rundly had spent most of the night near the fire, conferring with several dozen other men. Turlough assumed that they were discussing the battle plan, but he had no way of hearing their words.

After some time, Turlough coughed loudly. The other men ignored him, so he coughed again then croaked out, "Pardon me, but can I get some water?"

He began to stand, but Dran pushed him down. "You're not moving," he said. "I'll get it."

Turlough nodded with a small, self-satisfied smile as the soldier approached the fire. Several buckets of water and large pots of stew had been set near the firepit. As Dran scooped out a cupful of water, Turlough saw him pause to listen to the conversation around him. Humans, the Trion native thought, had an innate curiosity that was really quite predictable.

When Dran returned, he handed the cup to Turlough then turned to his companions. In an excited whisper, he said, "We leave at first light. The Briars' camp is an hour's walk. There are two other groups of Kingsmen who're joining us there, one attacking from the south and another from the northwest—there'll be nearly a thousand of us in all. The scouts say there are only a few hundred Briars—"

Turlough had leaned in slightly to hear the conversation better, but when one of the men turned to stare at him he drank the water and bowed his head. The remainder of Dran's words were mere whispers that he could not discern fully. But he had heard enough. His stomach tightened as he realized that the Kingsmen were planning a monumental slaughter.

----------

As the night faded into pre-dawn gray, the mountain range loomed ahead, rugged and sharp against the pale sky. Just as the map indicated, the Doctor saw that there were three mountains. At the base of the middle one lights flickered.

When they passed near one of the Kingsmen's camps, the Doctor had found that he had to support Tegan fully in order to propel her forward. She had slumped against him, glassy-eyed, bent under the burden she carried in her mind. Yet as they moved past the camp then further away, she had become slightly more alert. Now she walked beside him, although he still kept his arm around her waist. Her eyes were clearer, and when he spoke her name, she blinked at him.

"Tegan?" he repeated. "Come on, Tegan! Listen to me now."

She blinked again, and he could see the tremendous effort she required to shift her attention outward to him.

"Doctor?" she rasped, foundering toward the ground.

He tightened his grip and drew her slightly toward him for additional support. "That's it," he said, "look at me and listen to my voice."

Her gaze moved to his face. He quickly locked his eyes on hers, using all of his skill to draw her fully out of her subconscious and into the reality of the cool night. He felt her shiver.

"Are they gone?" she asked in a small voice.

"We've moved far enough away that their thoughts should be fainter now. But we're approaching the Briars' camp, and there will be many people there, too. Before we get any closer, I want you to tell me what you heard. Was anyone thinking about the battle?"

Tegan shook her head. "There were so many words and images… I'm not sure."

"Try to concentrate."

She closed her eyes then said slowly, "I could hear Turlough. I was able to understand some of his thoughts, but the others kept butting in. He's scared—he wants to get away. The battle… he's afraid because it's going to be a slaughter."

"A slaughter?" asked the Doctor in alarm.

Tegan nodded. "That's what he thinks. The others were thinking about it, too. There's a big group of Kingsmen, much bigger than the Briars." She closed her eyes, trying to recall the words she had heard. "Nearly… a thousand. Coming from the south… and northwest."

"All right. We have to reach the Briars before the Kingsmen do."

The Doctor began walking, but Tegan balked. "What can we do?"

"We can warn them of the attack. If they're prepared, they may not suffer as many losses. Or they may choose to move further away, or even to surrender."

Tegan bit her lip. Her face reflected pain. "I want to stay here," she said somberly.

The Doctor turned back to her. "What?"

"I want to stay here. I don't want to go the Briars' camp."

"Tegan, you can't remain out here alone—"

"And I can't face another large group of people. Doctor, you don't know what it was like before. I had to see all of their thoughts—thoughts of battles, killing, swords. It was awful, and it just kept coming at me, slamming against me. For a while I was able to step back, to let it all just swirl around me, but this last time I couldn't get away from it. I thought I'd be there—in their thoughts—forever. I just can't do it again."

The Doctor saw that her eyes were bright with tears. He placed his hand on her shoulder, saying, "But you did come back to reality, to me. You were able to bring yourself back. And in the process you gained valuable information that will help the Briars. I can't leave you here; it's not safe. The Kingsmen will be coming through here in a matter of hours."

Tegan wiped a hand across her cheek; tears had begun to glisten against her skin. "I'm really scared, Doctor."

He smiled sadly and brushed his thumb over the trail of tears. "I know that, but I also know that you can do this. Brave heart, Tegan."

"And if it's too much? If I can't come back?" she asked in a shaking voice.

"I promise you that I will get you back. There are ways."

Tegan arched an eyebrow at him. "What sort of ways?" she asked dubiously.

"You needn't worry about that now. I told you before that I would keep you safe, and I intend to keep that promise. Do you trust me?"

Tegan hesitated longer than he would have liked, but finally she replied, "Yes."

"Good. Now come on. We haven't any time to waste."

They began to walk briskly, Tegan trying to quell her fear of the next encounter with a large group, as the Doctor considered seriously his options for helping his companion from the maze of thoughts in which he feared she would soon be trapped.

----------

As the mountains gained shape against the steel grey sky, the Doctor could see the Briars' camp. A large fire shone in the center of the compound, surrounded by tents and smaller fires with men huddled around them.

Tegan had begun to sense the Briars' thoughts well before the camp came into sight. Now she had slipped again into the stupor that accompanied the onslaught of voices and images in her mind. The Doctor did not attempt to draw her back to full consciousness. Instead, he focused his attentions on reaching the camp, leading her along silently at his side.

As he approached the perimeter of the encampment, a sentry stepped forward, wielding a sword. "Stop," he ordered, his eyes running over the two intruders with some surprise. "What do you want?" he asked.

The Doctor steadied Tegan, who was beginning to slump, then responded, "I have important information for your leader."

The sentry's eyes narrowed. "What sort of information?"

"Information from one of your companions who was badly injured."

The guard considered this for a moment, then he fixed his gaze on Tegan. "Is she hurt?" he asked.

"She's… very tired," the Time Lord said. "We've traveled a great distance to bring this message to your camp. Please, will you take me to your commander?"

The sentry nodded, keeping his hand on the sword. He moved around behind the Doctor and Tegan, saying, "Walk toward the large tent." He remained behind them as the Doctor led Tegan forward.

The soldiers in the camp were just beginning to stir in the grey light. The visitors passed dozens of men sleeping or resting on the ground or in small, makeshift tents. Some of the men were injured, and most appeared exhausted or mildly ill. The Doctor could see that these men's battles had taken their toll. This group was ill-prepared for a major attack.

The guard stopped when they reached the largest tent. He called to a soldier nearby, telling him to watch the intruders carefully while he ducked into the tent. After a minute, he emerged and gestured for the Doctor and Tegan to enter.

The Doctor pulled Tegan through the flap of material that served as the entrance to the tent. Inside stood a tall man with sable hair and striking green eyes that sparkled with intelligence and curiosity in the light of the lantern he had just lit. He wore a rich, brown jerkin with a rose embroidered on the breast.

"My sentry says that you have information for me," the man said summarily.

The Doctor nodded and reached for the parchment in his jacket pocket. "Yes. We encountered a Briar soldier some distance from here. He was mortally wounded, but before he died he gave this to me." The Doctor held out the parchment. "He asked that I find your base camp and give you this to warn you of a surprise attack planned by the Kingsmen."

The man took the parchment and studied it briefly, then he looked back at the Doctor. "This is from the leader of the western camp." He touched a small monogram at the top of the parchment. "You say you got this from a soldier?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. We found him in the woods, near the rose bush."

"That is very far from here. You came all this way to bring this to me?"

The Doctor smiled wanly. "We did."

"You are Briars?"

"No," said the Doctor, "we are simply visitors here."

"Visitors, and you traveled such a distance to deliver a message from a man you didn't even know?"

The Doctor shrugged. "It seemed rather important."

"It is. Thank you. I'm Lord Pannon, commander of the Briars." He extended his hand.

The Doctor shook it warmly, but his expression reflected surprise. "You're out here with your troops?"

Lord Pannon nodded gravely. "I would not ask them to fight while I remain in safety."

The Time Lord nodded in admiration. "I am called the Doctor," he said. "This is Tegan."

Tegan was slouched at his side, held up only by the strength of his arm around her.

Lord Pannon stepped forward to look more closely at the young woman. "Is she ill?" he asked with concern.

"She is exhausted."

The commander gestured toward a neat stack of furs and blankets at the side of the tent. "She is welcome to rest here."

With a nod of gratitude, the Doctor settled Tegan onto the soft bedding. Her expression was eloquent of psychological and physical pain, yet her eyes were blank. The Doctor knew that she had slipped deeply into the morass of images and words from the soldiers who lay only a stone's throw away. Their proximity was intensifying the strength of their thoughts. Tegan's heartbeat was rapid, and her skin had grown cold. The Doctor pulled a thick blanket over her.

"She does not look well," Pannon commented, watching his guests.

"Yes," replied the Doctor. "I'm afraid that our journey has been a difficult one for her."

"Would you like me to summon my apothecary?"

The Doctor considered this for a moment. "Yes, thank you. Could you ask him to bring something to help her sleep?"

Lord Pannon stepped outside then returned quickly. "The sentry will fetch him."

"Thank you." The Doctor stood. "Lord Pannon, I have more information about the Kingsmen's attack. It will be soon, and it will be massive. They have nearly one thousand soldiers, and they plan to begin marching just before dawn—about now, I should think. Three groups will attack, one from the south and one from the northwest. I am not sure from which direction the other group will come, but they are camped less than four kilometers east of here."

Lord Pannon was visibly alarmed by this information. "If that is true, they 'll be here in less than two hours." He turned to the Doctor with a suspicious scowl. "How do you know this? It isn't written on the parchment."

"No, but we have passed the Kingsmen's camps, and Tegan… overheard some of their conversation."

"Are you certain about this?"

The Doctor nodded solemnly. "Yes."

Lord Pannon clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace the length of the tent. "I must discuss this with the others… They will outnumber us, three to one, and my men are already tired and wounded. Even if we anticipate the attack, their sheer force puts the battle on their side."

The tent flap was swept aside as a small, wiry man stepped in. He carried several vials in his hands, and his wide belt had clusters of herbs hanging from it.

"Ah, Narreck, she needs your help," Lord Pannon said absently, cocking his head toward Tegan. "Excuse me," he continued, "but I must speak with the troop leaders." He slipped out through the flap.

Narreck stepped toward Tegan, but the Doctor moved in front of him. He was reluctant to explain the reason for Tegan's condition, fearing that information obtained through telepathy would be received dubiously at best. He knew it was critical that Lord Pannon believe him about the impending attack.

"Thank you for coming," said the Doctor amiably. "My companion is suffering from nervous exhaustion from our long and difficult journey. She needs something to induce a deep sleep."

"I've brought several tinctures," said Narreck, holding up the vials, "but I shall need to examine her to determine which is best."

The Doctor smiled affably. "That won't be necessary. She is under my care."

"You are an apothecary?"

The Time Lord looked away briefly. "You might say that." He returned his gaze to Narreck. "However, I'm afraid that I haven't any of my things with me, but I can assure you that all Tegan needs is a strong somnorific."

Narreck glanced at Tegan then back at the Doctor, hesitating briefly. "All right," he said, finally. He held up one of the vials. "This will place her in a deep, restful sleep."

The Doctor took the container and removed the small cork. He sniffed the contents. "Ah, a tincture of winthania somnifera and adoxaceae."

In response to Narreck's inquisitive look, he added, "Winter cherry and muskroot."

Narreck nodded. "Yes. Those are the primary components."

"This will do nicely."

The Doctor bent to Tegan, lifting her head and holding the vial to her lips. "I think a few drops only, just to allow her to sleep for an hour or so."

He hoped that slipping into a heavy slumber would free Tegan's mind from the thoughts of others, and permit her to obtain some much-needed rest to ameloriate the growing physical effects accompanying her mental experiences. He poured a small amount of the tincture into her mouth then returned her head to the cushion of blankets.

As he stood, Lord Pannon entered the tent, clearly troubled. "Narreck," he said, "one of the soldiers from Luresta has a fever, and his wound has worsened."

Narreck nodded. "I'll see to him."

"The men will stand and fight," the commander said, "but so many are injured. My advisors are considering strategies—we do have the advantage of anticipating the attack—but our losses will be heavy."

Narreck had walked back to the tent flap, but he paused and turned back. "Sir," he said to the Doctor, "I'll need that vial."

"Ah, yes, of course," said the Doctor, holding out the small bottle. As Narreck reached for it, however, the Time Lord pulled back his hand. "I wonder," he murmured, lifting up the bottle to study it.

"Sir," Narreck repeated, "please. I need to see to the injured man."

"Oh, sorry." The Doctor returned the vial to the apothecary's eager hand. "But you've given me an idea." With a broad smile, he turned to Lord Pannon. "Your men may not have to fight all of the Kingsmen."

"What do you mean?" asked Lord Pannon.

As rosy dawn rays spread over the camp, the Doctor explained his plan to the commander.


	7. Chapter 7

Turlough trudged over damp, dewy grass, surrounded by a mass of soldiers. They had not yet joined the other two groups; this would occur within the next half hour, Rundly had told the men. Rundly's attention had been less focused on Turlough since they had left the camp. The soldier spent a great deal of time conferring with the other division leaders, obviously trying to impress them with his tales of victory and bravado. The other soldiers were clearly thinking about the upcoming battle, discussing it with each other with nervous excitement.

Much to his surprise, Turlough suddenly found himself at the edge of the group, and a quick glance at his associates showed that no eyes were upon him at the moment. A dense copse of evergreens was only a few feet to his right. Turlough stepped to the side swiftly then slipped between two trees. He paused for several seconds to listen for any changes in conversation or tone, but the men's voices retained their rhythm. It seemed that no one had noticed his departure. Turlough took a deep breath and began to run.

He dashed away from the soldiers, hoping to head back toward the area where they had camped. Turlough's feet pounded over the soft earth, and within a short time his breath came in gasps, but he continued to run. He could not get far enough away from Rundly and the Kingsmen.

After a few minutes he paused, panting with his unaccustomed exertion. He bent to rest his hands against his knees, breathing deeply for a few moments. A small snap behind him caught his attention, and Turlough began to straighten and turn. However, a hand flashed suddenly past his head and clamped over his mouth. An arm locked over his chest to pin his arms securely and firmly to his sides.

Turlough struggled, trying to stamp at his attacker's feet and wriggle free of the man's iron grip. The voice he heard, however, immediately arrested his efforts.

"Turlough?" came a familiar query.

The hand dropped from his mouth, and his arms were released. Turlough spun around to find the Doctor standing behind him.

"Doctor!" he exclaimed with considerable relief.

The Doctor shook Turlough's hand with a warm smile, quickly surveying his companion as he did. Turlough appeared fatigued, and a cut bisected his chin. An angry purple bruise stood out against the fair skin beneath his right eye as well, but the Time Lord could see no signs of serious damage.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Turlough nodded. "Better now that I've gotten away from them."

"The Kingsmen had you?"

"Yes. They kept close watch on me until just now. They were distracted by the battle they're planning, and I was able to get away."

"Were they aware of your escape?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think so—they'd probably have come after me if they were."

The Doctor's smile faded. "I'm afraid that you'll have to go back."

"Go back? What for?" Turlough asked with some alarm.

The Doctor's expression had grown somber. "The Kingsmen are planning a massive attack against the Briars, which I believe you know. They outnumber the Briars at least three to one. The Briars know about the attack, but their men are weak. There is very little chance of a victory for them if they have to fight the entire group."

"You've been with the Briars?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. Tegan is still at their base camp. Turlough, if the Briars lose this battle, their commander will surely be captured or killed, and they will lose the war. If this happens, the king will force the Briars to serve him. This would lead to a dictatorship at best, and the ruin of the entire planet at worst. The king and his loyalists have no good will toward the Briars—including the women and children. From everything I've seen and heard, they are a violent, dissolute bunch "

Turlough touched his bruised cheek. "I know."

"My running into you here was a very fortunate coincidence. I had planned to take a tunic from one of the Kingsmen and slip into their ranks, but now you can do it."

"Why?" asked Turlough, clearly dreading facing the soldiers again.

"The Briars will have a chance if the King's forces are weakened. You've been with them for some time; they recognize you." He held up a small leather flask. Turlough saw now that two others hung at his side. "You must put the contents of this into their drinking water."

"What is it?"

"It's a derivative of glycoside, a rather nasty poison found in abundance in berries here."

"Poison? Doctor, you're not planning to kill them?"

The Doctor appeared mildly offended. "Kill them? Turlough, you should know me better than that. This will simply make them ill, and it may leave some unconscious, but unless someone were to ingest the entire contents of this flask, there's no danger of permanent damage."

"And if I were able to put that into the water, just how would I get them to drink it? When they're marching they don't stop for refreshments."

"Then we shall have to do something to make them thirsty. This should do the trick." The Doctor produced a cloth bag from his pocket and held it out.

Turlough took the bag and prepared to open it, but the Doctor said, "I wouldn't do that right now."

"What's in it?"

"Do you remember those leaves that caused us to cough shortly after we arrived here? I've made a fine powder from them, which I'll sprinkle in the soldiers' path. Once they step on it, the crystals will float upward and be inhaled, which will cause coughing and lead to water consumption."

"So you're saying that I have to go back to the Kingsmen then somehow pour that," he pointed at one of the flasks, "into their water, without anyone noticing?"

"Exactly!"

"And just how many soldiers will have to drink this?"

"As many as possible. If we can thin their ranks by a third, the Briars will have a chance."

"There are two other groups coming in from other directions. Thinning the Briars by a third would mean I'd need to pour this into all of the water buckets in the group I was with."

"Yes, I imagine it does."

"What about the other two groups?"

The Doctor's mouth twitched upward slightly. "They will have to be dealt with, too. Well, you'd better get going. You have quite a job ahead of you.'

"And where are you going?"

"To attend to this." He took the bag of powder from Turlough and transferred the three flasks to the young man's hands then began to walk away.

"Wait, Doctor! How will I find you again?"

The Doctor stopped and turned around. "I'll be with the Briars." His expression had become serious again. "Tegan will be in the large tent in the center of the camp. If you do not see me immediately, get her and take her away from the battle as quickly as you can."

"Where will you be?" Turlough asked with growing apprehension.

"In a battle, it's difficult to know what will happen." The Doctor looked toward the sky, apparently distracted for a moment. When he returned his gaze to Turlough, he added, "Just take Tegan away, in the direction opposite from the mountains. That will lead you toward the TARDIS."

"All right," Turlough said warily.

"And Turlough," added the Doctor, "Tegan is not herself right now. She will need your help to get away."

"Not herself? What do you mean?"

"I don't have time to explain now. Just know that it is crucial that you take her as far away from other people as you can. If you can get her to the TARDIS, do so. And be careful." The Doctor turned and hurried away, calling over his shoulder, "Oh, and cover your mouth and nose when the others begin to cough."

Turlough stood for several seconds in mild confusion. He considered seriously making a run for the TARDIS. At least he would be safe there… The thought of facing Rundly again was unnerving, to say the least. Yet the Doctor had entrusted him with this critical task, and then with Tegan's safety. After another minute of hesitation, Turlough walked away.

----------

Tegan lay on the soft mattress of skins, covered with a warm blanket. Outside the tent, the camp was bustling with frantic activity as the soldiers prepared for the attack. Swords and daggers were sharpened; archers readied their bows and arrows and climbed into position in the trees and on the rocky ledges; some men knelt to utter a final prayer.

Inside the tent, Lord Pannon conferred with several advisors. Their voices rose as impassioned ideas were shared and hopes buoyed with the possibility of success. Strategies were discussed then discarded in favor of better plans. A cook entered once and brought the men food, but they did not touch it; they were too preoccupied to think of eating.

Amid the flurry, Tegan lay motionless. The gentle, slow rise and fall of her chest was the only subtle sign of life surrounding her. Indeed, she was senseless to all around her. She slept heavily, deeply, and dreamlessly. The apothecary's potion had plummeted her into the depths of unconsciousness, and her mind was finally blank.

Lord Pannon and his colleagues paid little attention to the slumbering young woman. Indeed, as they became more immersed in their discussions, she was all but forgotten.

----------

The Doctor had sprinted ahead of the marching Kingsmen to stand on a rise and survey their progress. He could see the group moving forward. If they kept to their path, they would surely cross the area directly in front of him. He scrambled down the bank and took the pouch from his pocket.

Carefully he tipped the bag, bending to pour a thin line of powder across the open area. When he finally straightened, he had left a line nearly five meters long. Fortunately the powder was barely visible against the brown earth. He hastened forward and poured a second line a short distance ahead.

A faint rumble drew his attention to the sky. With some alarm, he saw that dark clouds were building in the distance. Rain would wash away the powder, which would ruin the entire plan. The storm was still several kilometers away, however. The Doctor hoped fiercely that it would hold off until the soldiers had marched along this path.

With a shake of his head, the Time Lord began to walk away.

----------

Turlough edged closer to the marching soldiers, keeping in the shadow of the trees until the group was only a few meters away from him. He waited until the men had nearly passed then slipped out of the forest and walked casually toward the last man.

The soldier turned to stare at him with a scowl. "Where'd you come from?" he asked.

Turlough pointed toward the brush with his thumb. "Had to step out for a minute. I'm with Rundly's bunch."

"Rundly? Oh, right."

The soldier seemed to have little interest in Turlough, so the Trion native quickened his pace to worm his way back toward the center of the troops, where he knew the water bearers were. He held one of the flasks in his hand, dangling at his side as unobtrusively as possible. Fortunately the sleeves of his tunic were long, and he was able to keep the flask partially hidden .

After a few minutes he spotted one of the soldiers who walked with a yoke across his shoulders. Dangling from the wide wooden bar were two large buckets of water. Turlough had learned that, despite the lush vegetation, water sources were sporadic in this section of the planet, so water was collected whenever possible and carried until needed.

Turlough sidled toward the buckets, already working the stopper from the flask. As he passed the bucket on the bearer's left, he grasped the rope that held it, saying, "Steady there. You're tipping a bit."

As he spoke, he quickly tilted the flask over the water, permitting a small stream to fall into the bucket. He slipped the flask back under his sleeve as the man turned his head to look with a grunt of acknowledgment.

"Let me check this side," Turlough said, moving toward the second bucket. "The rope looks a bit loose."

With another swift motion he poured some more of the potion into the bucket, glancing furtively around to be certain that no one had witnessed his actions. When he lowered his arm he found that his hand was shaking, but he had managed to add the liquid to the water. The first part of his task was complete. He walked ahead to find the next water bearer.

By the time he had made it to the center of the throng, Turlough had added the potion to six of the water buckets supplying this group. He still had six more to go. He moved forward once again.

A hand on his shoulder arrested his progress. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" demanded Rundly. The man seemed to appear from nowhere, or perhaps Turlough had simply been too preoccupied to notice him.

"I'm trying to keep up," Turlough stammered, suddenly nervous that his actions had been seen.

Rundly scowled. "Where have you been?"

"I'm not used to this sort of pace. I fell a little behind," he replied, trying to shift the flask he held upward, more fully under his sleeve. He had dropped the empty first flask, and the third was tucked into his waistband beneath his tunic.

Rundly caught the movement of his hand and gripped his wrist fiercely, bringing it up to see the flask clasped in the young man's fingers.

"What's this?" Rundly asked suspiciously as his fingers tightened and twisted over Turlough's skin.

Turlough forced himself not to cry out in pain. Instead, he said calmly, "I found it back there. Someone must have dropped it."

Rundly snatched the flask and pulled out the stopper. He sniffed the contents then recoiled slightly. "It's gone bad."

He tossed the container aside. Turlough watched as it landed on the ground and was trampled immediately by several soldiers. The liquid splashed out and seeped into the earth.

"I already warned you about keeping up," Rundly was saying caustically. "This is your last chance. If I see you behind again you'll be our first casualty of this battle." He tapped his dagger against Turlough's chest, then pressed it forward until the Trion winced at the sharp blade piercing his skin.

Rundly pulled the dagger back and shoved it into his belt. "Move!" The soldier gave Turlough a hard shove as a few drops of blood began to seep over his tunic.

Turlough hurried forward, distressed at the loss of the precious liquid and growing desperate at the thought that he might be prevented from adding the final flask to at least a few more buckets. The Doctor had said that, at a minimum, two-thirds of the troops had to be affected…

Once again Turlough considered making a run for the woods, but if Rundly caught him, he was certain that the dagger would do more than merely prick his skin. Turlough continued walking with the soldiers, already eyeing the boy carrying buckets up ahead. Surely his best chance was to disable the soldiers in the hopes of diminishing the battle.

----------

As the group of soldiers approached the first line of powder, the Doctor watched anxiously from the shelter of a large bush fifty meters away. He had been fairly certain that the troop's path would cross the critical area, but he had been less certain of the weather. Clouds had built steadily for the last half hour, their undersides heavy and dark with rain. A clap of thunder caused him to flinch. He looked upward, expecting the see drops of water falling, but instead he found that the sky had only grown darker.

The Doctor trusted that Turlough had completed his task; it should have been a relatively simple matter.

When the first soldiers stepped across the line and began to cough, the Doctor nodded in satisfaction and hurried away toward the Briars' camp.

----------

Turlough had managed to add the potion to another two buckets. There were two more water bearers ahead, so he wove through the soldiers to approach his target. He held the last flask in his shaking hand.

He had found that the ruse of checking the ropes on the buckets worked well enough. He could place a hand on the edge of the rope with the pretext of steadying it then turn the flask quickly to spill a few drops into the water. This ploy had been successful half a dozen times already. Now more than half of the water was affected. Since he had lost the one flask, he had debated whether to add less of the potion to each bucket but still lace all of the water, or simply to ignore the final sets of the buckets in favor of a generous splash in all of the others. He did not know how much of the liquid was optimal to create the desired effects, but he finally decided that definitely incapacitating two-thirds of the group was better than only possibly affecting all of them.

Turlough reached the water bearer and lifted his hand toward the bucket. He gripped the flask with his thumb as he tilted his hand over the water.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" an angry voice demanded.

Turlough turned with a pounding heart, expecting to see Rundly with his dagger drawn. Instead he found Dran next to him. The soldier reached for Turlough's hand.

"The rope looked loose—" Turlough began. A commotion up ahead drew his interrogator's attention away for a few seconds. Turlough quickly poured liquid into the first bucket before Dran turned back around. The bearer was focused on the disturbance in the forward ranks and did not notice Turlough's actions.

When Rundly's colleague turned back to Turlough, he grabbed the young man's arm, pushing back the sleeve to expose the flask completely. "What's this?" he asked.

"It's a flask," Turlough replied tartly. "I get thirsty."

"Well, no one dips into the water unless we all do." He took the flask from Turlough and shook it. The liquid sloshed against the sides. "You were filling this, weren't you?" he accused hotly.

"No, I got that somewhere else."

"Where? We haven't been near any streams since you joined us."

"I had it before—"

Dran removed the stopper and poured the contents into the bucket. "Well, it's all of ours now."

Turlough's eyes widened as he watched the liquid form a cloud in the water then dissipate quickly. Dran tossed the flask aside, saying, "Rundly wants all of us up there with him. Come on."

Turlough glanced again at the bucket, recalling that too much of the potion could prove fatal. He could probably spill most of the contents, but he knew such an action would bring him considerable unwanted attention.

"Come on!" Dran took Turlough's arm and jerked him forward.

Turlough's decision was made.

---------

The rain began to fall lightly as the Doctor made his way back to the Briars' camp. By the time he had ducked inside Pannon's tent, large drops were splashing on the dry ground. Mutters of consternation could be heard from the soldiers who were preparing to fight.

Lord Pannon stood with several other men in the center of the tent. They were involved in a heated discussion and barely acknowledged the entrance of their visitor. The Doctor waited patiently for perhaps half a minute then cleared his throat loudly during a brief pause in the conversation.

"Oh, Doctor," said Pannon, nodding to his guest. "I hope you've returned to tell me of your success."

"Well," began the Time Lord, "I did place the powder in the Kingsmen's path, and I believe that the glycoside has been added to their water supply. However, I don't know what effect this rain will have. If the majority of the soldiers have already crossed the powder, then their ranks should be thinning as we speak. But if they did not continue to move forward after the first group crossed the line, then I'm afraid this rain will wash away our hopes of disabling a good portion of the men."

Pannon shook his head. "Did you see any of them crossing the line?"

"Yes. I waited until I was certain that those at the front would step on the powder. I hesitated to remain much longer; I know there is more preparation to do here."

Pannon nodded. "Yes, there is. The archers are preparing, and the other men are nearly ready. But I know Narreck and his assistants could use some help to finish their project. Would you mind?"

"Of course," said the Doctor, turning back toward the tent flap. He hesitated for a moment, then glanced toward the floor. "How is she?" he asked, watching Tegan for a few seconds. She was quite still.

Pannon looked at the young woman. "She hasn't stirred."

"Good. She needs the rest. If she should begin to wake, please send someone for me."

"Yes, of course. And when the Kingsmen come?"

"She must be taken away from here, as far as possible. I will return for her if I can. If I cannot, a young man named Turlough will come for her. But Lord Pannon, if for some reason neither he nor I come, I must ask that you arrange for someone to remove her from the battle zone."

"I'll see to it."

"Thank you."

The Doctor exited the tent and strode quickly through the pouring rain toward Narreck's tent. He knew that the Kingsmen would arrive in a matter of minutes, and he hoped that the Briars would be prepared fully for this onslaught. Even with some of the men incapacitated, it could still be a fierce and bloody fight. He hurried into the tent to provide whatever assistance he could with the apothecary's crucial work.

----------

Rundly had led his group with aggressive intensity toward the front of the forces. Turlough was impelled forward by the throng of men, prodded occasionally by Rundly's glares. Now they were marching down a slight incline. Ahead Turlough could see vague outlines of tents through the steady rain. His heart pounded fiercely as he realized that the Briars' camp was merely meters away.

Turlough's breath caught in his throat. If they were that close to the camp, surely the soldiers at the head of the group had crossed the line of powder. It was difficult to see clearly through the rain and men surrounding him.

"There they are!" Rundly shouted above the drum of the downpour. "Forward, and attack!"

Turlough felt himself pushed forward, moving helplessly with the hundreds of soldiers around him. His spirits sank at the strength of the group. Had no one consumed the water? Surely those who had would be ill by now. Had the showers washed away the powder?

The men stormed through the mud and rain, drawing their swords and daggers in anticipation of the battle. Turlough was drenched and chilled through. He was beginning to feel numb, both physically and mentally. The Doctor's plan had failed. Perhaps it was the rain—it must have washed away the powder. There was no hope for the Briars now. Turlough's chest felt tight, and his eyes prickled hotly.

He blinked. Suddenly he realized that the men had slowed their pace. He heard angry voices to his left, drawing nearer and growing louder. He strained to hear the words.

"…collapsed with stomach pains… coughing first."

"…ill… dozens of them."

"… something they ate?"

"… maybe something they drank."

A man near Turlough asked loudly, "What's going on?"

Another soldier, several meters to his left, replied, "The men in the front are sick. They're doubled over with stomach pains, and some have passed out. They may have been poisoned."

Turlough felt cold, and he realized that his entire body was shaking.

"Poisoned?" another man asked. "How?"

"Must have been the water," someone said. "They were all drinking it."

"Come on," Rundly commanded. "Leave them. We still outnumber the Briars."

The men moved forward again. They had just entered the outer perimeter of the camp when Dran shouted, "He put something in the water!"

Turlough froze and looked up to see the soldier pointing directly at him.

"I saw him!" Dran was saying. "He had a flask—"

Without a word Turlough bolted to the right, shoving aside a dozen or more men as he ran for the outskirts of the group. He heard shouting behind him, but he kept running. After a minute or so, he found men lying on the ground. Some moaned with pain, gripping their abdomens, while others appeared to be unconscious.

Turlough twisted his head quickly to glance back. A few soldiers were moving through the crowd in his direction, yelling for someone to stop the traitor. One of the ill men reached for Turlough's ankle, but the Trion youth easily pulled his leg away and continued running. He had lost track of his direction; he simply tried to keep ahead of the growing group of pursuers behind him. He had to step carefully to avoid trampling the fallen men. There were more now, at least four or five dozen. Turlough felt a brief rush of satisfaction as he realized that he had been successful in his task. He kept his eyes on the ground for a time, pushing past the ill soldiers, trying not to step on them or allow them to hold him, as several more had tried to do. His pursuers were closer now, although they, too, were slowed by the prone bodies all around them.

When Turlough looked up again, he was surprised to see that he was on the edge of the Briars' camp. Of course—if he was among the ill men, he must be at the very front of the line. He whipped his head around once more to assess his lead and found that the others were even closer. More soldiers had joined them in their pursuit. Their weapons were drawn, and their expressions were livid. As Turlough turned his head to evaluate his path, something flew toward him. He lifted a hand to block it and gasped as an object struck his palm sharply. He lowered his arm to find a gash just below his thumb. It stung terribly for a moment until rain washed over it. At his feet lay an arrow. He looked up to find several more arrows rushing through the air.

Turlough ducked and continued to run as the arrows whizzed above his head. He heard cries of pain behind him and felt certain that several of the Kingsmen had fallen victim to the barrage of arrows. He swerved to pause behind a tent, quickly surveying the area. He saw that at least two dozen archers straddled the limbs of high trees, keeping up their attack with fresh arrows.

Rain continued to fall steadily, drenching the foot soldiers and obscuring their view. Turlough felt relieved to see that the archers were protected by the leaves and appeared to possess excellent aim. Nevertheless, the Kingsmen had begun to invade the camp, and skirmishes were breaking out in several areas. To his right, Turlough saw a group of four Briars. They were pointing at him and drawing their daggers.

"No!" he shouted. "I'm not one of them! I'm not a Kingsman!"

The Briars did not appear to believe him. As they began to run toward him, Turlough spun around and started to sprint away. However, his foot slipped in the mud, and he felt himself sliding to the ground.

He fell flat on his back, and by the time he had struggled to his feet the Briars were nearly upon him.

"Please!" he yelled through the rain, "I'm on your side!"

His words did not dissuade the soldiers. In a moment they had surrounded him. Two spears pressed against his chest.

"I surrender," he gasped. "Just take me prisoner."

The men seemed to consider this for a moment, but a small band of Kingsmen rapidly approaching shifted their focus from Turlough. A dagger shot through the air, striking one of the Briar soldiers in the shoulder. The man grunted and fell to his knees as his companions turned to fight the attackers.

Turlough rose and slipped through the men then began to run again. He saw the woods to his left and swerved in that direction. The fighting had intensified. All around him small bands of soldiers were engaged in hand-to-hand combat. The Kingsmen had clearly invaded the camp, despite his best efforts to disable them. For an instant Turlough wondered where the Doctor was.

It was nearly impossible to see anyone clearly in the rain, but he paused to look about. All he could discern were the colors of the men's tunics, dulled and sodden, but still distinguishable. He grasped the hem of the tunic he wore and pulled it over his head, flinging the offending garment away. At least now he would not be mistaken for a Kingsman.

He did not see anyone wearing light colored clothing. The Doctor was nowhere in sight. Turlough hesitated for a moment. The woods were so close—he could lose himself in the dense trees in a matter of minutes and be away from this infernal battle zone. But he had given the Doctor his word that he would find Tegan and take her away. In the past his word had meant little, but now he had been entrusted with an important task. With one final longing glance at the forest, Turlough turned and slogged back through the camp.


	8. Chapter 8

Lord Pannon had left his tent the moment the Kingsmen entered the camp. Tegan lay alone among the blankets. She had been aware of nothing for over an hour, but now words and images began to flit through her returning consciousness. She was still drowsy, and she managed to open her eyes and look around before the full onslaught overwhelmed her. For a moment she took in her surroundings, vaguely wondering where she was. However, these musings were short-lived, and within a minute she was immersed once more in the thoughts of hundreds of others.

She tried to find a safe haven amid the rush of images and voices, but there were too many. They surged at her from every corner of her mind. Her hands clawed at her temples, desperate to tear away the swarm. Finally she curled into a ball and sank back against the blankets, utterly defeated by the bombardment from within.

----------

Turlough skulked through the camp, dodging occasional arrows and veering away from the small groups of fighting men. The rain drummed against the tents and splashed on the soggy ground, and shouts of aggression and cries of pain seemed to reverberate all around him, but he managed to make his way to the large tent at the center of the camp. As he ducked through the flap, he was vaguely aware of a change in the noises behind him, but he did not stop to look. He wanted to find Tegan and get away from the battle as soon as possible.

The interior of the tent was dim, but he saw Tegan immediately. He hurried toward her, saying, "Tegan! Come on, we have to go."

She did not respond to his words. She still lay curled into herself, her hands clenched against her head. He shook her shoulder, remembering the Doctor's comment that she was not herself. He could not imagine what was the matter with her, but he did not stop to contemplate this. Instead, he placed his hands under her arms and pulled her up. She stumbled to her feet, and he wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her toward the doorway.

As they stepped from the tent, Turlough noticed that the rain had abated to a drizzle. He could see the woods fairly clearly and allowed himself a moment of relief when he found that there was no fighting directly in the path he wanted to take. In fact, the fighting seemed to have diminished somewhat. He found this odd, given the influx of Kingsmen who should have invaded the camp from three directions only minutes after he entered. He knew that only part of his group had been affected by the water. He doubted that more than one third of the soldiers had even consumed it.

As his eyes skimmed the camp, he noticed some of the Kingsmen on their knees, holding their faces with their hands. Indeed, dozens of them near the edge of the camp were in this position. Arrows still flew through the air, but as Turlough watched, he noted that they landed on the ground. Something about the arrows appeared odd…

"Hey!"

A sharp voice nearby startled Turlough. He spun around to find a Briar soldier rapidly approaching him. The man was tall with rich brown hair and green eyes. He held a sword with an intricately crafted pearl handle, jabbing it toward the visitor.

"What are you doing with her?" he asked.

"I'm taking her away from here."

The man squinted slightly. "On whose authority?"

"The Doctor—"

"What is your name?"

"I'm Turlough."

The soldier nodded. "Oh, yes. The Doctor said you would come for her." He stood aside and gestured with his hand. "Go, quickly."

Turlough took a few steps but hesitated. "Where's the Doctor?"

The man shook his head. "I'm not sure. He was helping with our defenses, but I haven't seen him in some time."

"When you do," said Turlough, "tell him that I came for her."

"Of course. Now go."

The man slipped into the tent quickly as Turlough hurried toward the woods. He was half-way there when he heard a furious string of invectives. He turned his head and saw Rundly charging at him, wielding a spear in one hand and flinging his dagger with the other.

The dagger whizzed through the air with seemingly impossible speed, but perhaps it was only Turlough's shock that seemed to alter time. He saw the weapon flying toward him and realized immediately that it would hit Tegan directly in the chest in an instant. Without thinking, he turned his body to shield her then pulled her to the ground. He felt the dagger strike his forehead, just above his temple, as his knees hit the mud.

Rundly had not ceased running, and now he raised the spear above Turlough. The Trion lad reached back, frantically searching for the dagger that had fallen near him while keeping his eyes on Rundly. Blood had begun dripping from his forehead, threatening to obscure his vision.

"Don't hurt her!" he enjoined. "It's me you want."

"Traitor!" Rundly spat. He towered above Turlough and Tegan, the spear clasped in his white-knuckled hand.

"All right," Turlough stammered, "I am. But she's done nothing."

"She's with you. That's enough."

Rundly's arm jerked back slightly to create additional leverage for the spear. In abject horror, Turlough watched as the weapon plummeted downward toward Tegan's stomach. He had managed to grasp the dagger in his right hand, and with his left he shoved Tegan as hard as he could to push her from the path of the spear. Rundly shifted slightly to readjust the weapon's trajectory, and in that moment Turlough forced his arm upward to thrust the dagger into Rundly's flank. The soldier staggered and bellowed with rage as blood began to spread over his tunic.

Turlough grasped the spear just above the blade and pulled it from Rundly's hand then flung it away. He stood and pushed Rundly to the ground then hauled Tegan up to her feet. She was still in a daze, unaware of the events around her.

Turlough wrapped his arm about her waist once again and dragged her toward the woods without a second glance at Rundly.

----------

Turlough had managed to take Tegan some distance from the camp before his legs gave out. A surge of energy, fueled by his body's automatic response to the life-threatening situation, had carried him forward for nearly a kilometer, but as the danger subsided his legs began to shake. Finally, he lowered Tegan to the ground then fell to his knees. His stomach churned and cramped, and he thought that he would be sick, but he only coughed uncomfortably for several minutes.

"Turlough?" Tegan's voice was faint, but it drew his attention.

He looked up to find that she sat among the leaves, blinking in puzzlement. He wiped a hand across his mouth and crawled back toward her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She blinked at him, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. "I think so." She seemed to require a minute to focus her vision on him. "Cripes, Turlough, what happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

She pointed toward his forehead. "Your head—it's bleeding. And you look awful. Were you just sick?"

He reached up to touch the wound left by the dagger. "No, not really."

He stood, though his legs still felt weak. "Can you walk on your own now?"

She nodded. "I think so."

"Good, then we should go. I want to get as far away from here as possible."

Tegan rose. "What happened? Where's the Doctor?"

"We've just managed to escape a major battle. I don't know where he is, but we need to head back toward the TARDIS."

"But your head—"

Turlough waved a hand dismissively. "Will be fine. Come on."

"But I don't understand—how did we get out here?"

"You don't remember?"

She shook her head.

"Maybe you should tell me what happened to you. You were in some sort of trance or something. You didn't seem aware of anything."

As they began to walk, Tegan tried to tell Turlough about her new-found capabilities, occasionally interrupted by bursts of thought from his own mind.

----------

"So you could see and hear what all of the soldiers were thinking?"

Turlough was rather fascinated by Tegan's skill. They had spent the last half hour discussing it, as well as the events of the past two days.

Tegan sighed. "Believe me, Turlough, it's not a good thing. It's like being attacked by hundreds of images and words all at once. It's confusing and scary—it's not something you'd want to have."

"But you were able to know about some of the battle plans, right?"

"I guess, but I couldn't really distinguish between the different people's thoughts very well, so I didn't get that much information."

"But still," said Turlough, considering the possibilities open to an individual with such an ability, "to know others' thoughts—just think of the information you could get."

Tegan shook her head. "I don't want it. I don't want to know what other people have seen and experienced. I had to watch battles over and over again, and see people hurt and dying, and know how much men missed their families—"

Her voice had grown hoarse, and she paused for a moment to swallow. "The Doctor's going to close the pathway in my mind as soon as we're back in the TARDIS."

"You'll lose the ability?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Turlough weighed this information. "I think you should reconsider that. Your ability could come in handy—"

"No." Tegan's tone was resolute. However, Turlough seemed determined to continue the conversation; she could see the eager expression on his face. In an attempt to change the subject, she said, "That cut on your head looks pretty bad. Does it hurt?"

Turlough touched the wound and winced. "A bit."

"Sit down and let me clean it up for you." Tegan motioned to a fallen tree. "Give me your handkerchief," she instructed, holding out her hand expectantly.

Turlough rummaged through his pocket and withdrew a small, white cloth. She took it and bent to wet it in some water that had collected in the leaves. She wiped the handkerchief over the gash, asking, "What did this?"

"A dagger."

Tegan saw a flash of metal, then she had an image of herself being shielded from a spear by Turlough. She inhaled sharply.

"Ow!"

She blinked to return her gaze to Turlough's forehead. "Sorry," she mumbled, dabbing more lightly at the blood. She was silent for several seconds. Finally, she said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

She lowered her hand and looked at him. "For saving me from that man."

"You were nearly unconscious— how did you— Did you just see that?"

She nodded.

"You looked inside my mind?"

"I couldn't help it. It's not so much looking as having the images come to me."

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you could try not to go snooping about in my memories—"

"I told you I can't help it! If there's something you don't want me to see, try not to think about it."

Turlough crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. "Are you certain that the Doctor can help you get rid of this… this power?"

"He says he can. But Turlough, why didn't you tell me what happened back there?"

Turlough rested his elbows on his knees and leaned his chin on his hands. "I guess I'd just as soon forget it."

"It looked really scary."

"It was, I suppose, but that's not the reason."

Tegan waited patiently for him to continue; he seemed to require a few moments to gather his thoughts. Finally, he said, "Remember when we were on Terminus, and we were talking about whether or not we could kill someone?"

She nodded.

"Well, I think I killed Rundly. I stabbed him with the dagger. There was a lot of blood, and he fell."

"You were trying to save my life," Tegan said softly.

"Does that justify killing someone?"

"I don't know. I don't know if anything justifies killing someone. But if you hadn't…" She could not continue.

Turlough's eyes wandered to his feet. With an audible sigh, he said, "Look Tegan, I'd really just like to forget the whole thing."

She touched his shoulder with her hand. "I won't forget it."

They remained silent for some time as Tegan continued to dab at the blood on his head. When they both heard leaves crunching nearby, they turned with some alarm to the source of the noise.

"Ah, good, I see that you both managed to get away." The Doctor's voice was cheerful, almost ebullient, in his relief.

"Doctor!" Tegan and Turlough exclaimed simultaneously.

The Time Lord strode toward them. His gaze was locked on Tegan, and as he approached he asked her, "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "I think so. It's much quieter here."

"Yes," he agreed, "it is."

"What happened? Where have you been?" Tegan asked.

"Is the battle over?" added Turlough.

The Doctor touched the cut on the Trion's forehead with a slight scowl. "Were you involved in the fighting?"

Turlough brushed his hand away. "It was nothing."

The look that Tegan gave Turlough did not escape the Doctor's notice, but he did not comment upon it. Instead, he said, "Well, I think the Briars owe both of you a rather substantial debt of gratitude."

In response to their inquiring expressions, he continued, "Tegan, the information that you got from the Kingsmen allowed the Briars to be prepared for the attack. And," he looked at Turlough, "the glycoside in the water disabled some of the soldiers and caused sufficient confusion for the Briars to get the upper hand."

"Really?" asked Turlough with sincere surprise. "I didn't think I'd gotten it into enough of their water to make a difference."

"Apparently it did."

"But Doctor," said Tegan, "where have you been? Were you caught in the battle?"

"Not exactly. I worked with the Briars' apothecary to make a weapon of sorts."

"A weapon?" repeated Tegan. "What kind of weapon?"

The Doctor smiled. "Oh, a rather painful but ultimately harmless one. Do you remember the salve I put on your arm at Amna's house?"

Tegan nodded. "It really stung."

"Yes, that was the influence of the oil from a tree much like the eucalyptus. I recognized the smell, and the apothecary and I were able to extract a good quantity of it from the nearby trees. We attached small sacs filled with the oil to the archers' arrows. The sacs burst when the arrows hit the ground, spattering the oil on any soldiers nearby. One touch to the face or eye spread the oil and caused a nasty reaction. It was very fortunate that the rain subsided when it did; the arrows had little effect when the oil was immediately washed away… Most of the Briar soldiers were waiting in the trees to capture the Kingsmen the instant the oil affected them."

Turlough lifted his hand. "So that's why it hurt so much."

"You were struck by one of the arrows?" asked the Doctor with concern.

"It just glanced off of me," Turlough replied quickly. "But there was fighting, too. I saw skirmishes all around."

The Doctor frowned. "Yes. I'm afraid that some combat was unavoidable. We couldn't use the arrows effectively until the rain subsided. But there were few causalities. The Briars tied up the ill Kingsmen and those who'd gotten the oil—nearly half of the force. The others retreated, and I have a feeling that surrender is not far away. The Kingsmen were quite surprised by the Briars' strategies."

"More like your strategies, I'd say," Tegan offered. She blinked and gave her head a shake as Rundly's livid face flashed through her mind again.

The Doctor rested his hand on her shoulder. "More images, Tegan?"

"Just—"

Turlough gave a short cough. Tegan glanced at him and finished, "Just a fleeting thought."

Again the Doctor noticed the brief interplay between his two young companions, but he refrained from pursuing it. "Come on," he said, "we have a lot of ground to cover."

He ushered his friends through the dense trees.


	9. Epilogue

Turlough was surprised to find the Doctor standing near the control panel when he entered the console room.

"Have you finished with Tegan?" the young man asked.

"Yes. She's going to sleep for several hours, but when she wakes she should be back to her old self."

"So no more mind reading?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No. Her ability is gone now."

"Well, I suppose that's a good thing. It's rather unsettling being around someone who can pry into your thoughts."

"Hmm. I rather imagine that it would be."

"Can she still—" Turlough paused. "Can she still remember the things she saw and heard?"

"Most of the images were fleeting, and she was exposed to much more than her mind could fully process. She will retain fragments, I think."

"But you didn't specifically erase the memories?"

"No, I didn't." The Doctor's voice had taken on the slightly distracted tone that seemed to accompany his efforts to program coordinates into the TARDIS.

"Are we going somewhere?" asked Turlough after a moment.

"No, not really." The Doctor began tapping at the keys.

"Then what are you doing?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm just resetting the time coordinates. I think fifty years in the future will do."

"We're staying on Rudaria?"

"Of course. We came here to see the rose, and I have every intention of doing just that. However, I would prefer that our visit occur during a more peaceful time."

"That's not a bad idea," said Turlough, rubbing a bandaged hand over his sore forehead as the TARDIS gave a slight shudder in preparation for the short journey through time.

----------

The Doctor stood in the warm sunlight, surrounded by the intense perfume of the luxurious roses. The deep pink flowers were in full bloom, spreading like small flames over the surface of the opulent bush. Tegan sat upon the ground, leaning back on her hands. Her eyes were closed, and her expression revealed both tranquility and joy. Turlough had seemed relatively disinterested in the rosebush at first, but as he breathed in its fragrance he sank to his knees, clearly affected by the depth of the aroma.

Even the Time Lord felt some effects from the plant. He had not experienced such a sense of calm in some time. He felt his hearts slow subtly and realized that he breathed torpidly yet deeply, almost as though he were meditating. He took a few steps back to lean comfortably against a tree trunk as he watched his companions.

He could see that all of Tegan's recent stress had left her. Indeed, he had never seen her as serene as she appeared now. The effects of her telepathic experiences were gone, leaving no trace of anxiety or disturbance upon her face. She was completely and utterly relaxed and peaceful.

Turlough's countenance had changed, too. The Doctor had sensed a distinctly negative emotion in the Trion youth since reuniting with him after the battle. He was not certain what events had occurred, but he knew that Turlough was troubled. He suspected strongly that the young man had been forced to commit some act that he regretted. Based upon the looks that Tegan frequently gave him, the Doctor was fairly certain that Turlough's actions had affected her in some way, too. There was a deep gratitude in her glances.

With a start, the Doctor realized that he had lost track of the time. Shadows began to creep over the bush as the sun lowered in the afternoon sky. Soon groups of Rudarians would arrive to experience the rose's effects.

"Turlough," the Doctor said softly, resting a hand on the young man's shoulder.

Turlough blinked and looked up. "What?" he asked rather drowsily.

"It's time to go."

Turlough stood, seeming confused momentarily about finding himself on his knees.

The Doctor moved toward Tegan and bent before her. He knew that she had been affected more deeply than Turlough; the rose's influence was strongest on those most troubled. He took her hands in his and spoke her name. She did not respond, so he stood and gently pulled her upward.

"Tegan, we need to return to the TARDIS now," he said.

She took a sharp breath. "Doctor?" She squinted slightly, trying to focus her attention on him.

"Yes, Tegan, I'm right here."

She smiled languidly. "It's so beautiful," she murmured, clearly still under the sway of the flowers.

"Yes, it is," responded the Doctor honestly.

With slightly more lucidity, she said, "I feel wonderful."

"That was the intent," the Doctor said mildly. "But we should leave now."

Tegan nodded and turned, but she hesitated, twisting her head back for one more view of the rose.

"It will stay with you," the Doctor said. "You can remember it any time you wish."

She nodded again as she walked out of the clearing, Turlough close at her heels. The Doctor reached back to brush a hand over the magnificent bush for a moment then joined his companions.

As they strolled through the woods, he commented, "I read the history of this planet more thoroughly while you were sleeping, Tegan. It seems that our presence here was indeed necessary for the Briars' victory."

"Really?" asked Turlough. "In what way?"

"The history texts," said the Doctor, "mention a courier who delivered a message to Lord Pannon. This message helped the Briars prepare for the Kingsmen's attack. The Kingsmen had hoped to capture Lord Pannon, but their failure to do this ultimately turned the war in the Briars' favor."

"And was there any mention of your secret weapons?" asked Tegan.

The Doctor waved a hand, but Tegan saw a grin flash across his face. "Perhaps a few words."

"So you're trying to tell us that it was all worth it—everything we went through here," said Turlough. Despite the calming effects of the rose, his voice contained a harsh edge.

The Doctor glanced at him. "For the people of this planet, yes it was."

They walked quietly for several minutes before Tegan spoke again. "Doctor, I meant to tell you something that I saw. I think it was during the battle—I know it was after I woke up in the tent."

"Yes?" inquired the Time Lord.

"I saw an image of Amna and Erran."

"Really?" asked the Doctor with interest. "Are you certain? You told me that your memories of the images faded quickly—"

"Yes. I made an effort to remember it. So that means that Kirn survived the war, doesn't it? He should have made it back to his family."

The Doctor tried to smile. "I hope so."

As soon as they stepped inside the TARDIS, Tegan said, "I have some packing to finish," and headed for the hallway. The Doctor followed her quietly toward her room. Nyssa's things still lay on the floor; Tegan had not touched them since arriving on Rudaria. She sighed quietly as she surveyed the items.

"Tegan," said the Doctor softly.

She turned to him, surprised by his presence. He stood in the doorway, his arms hanging at his sides. Slowly he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew his hand with closed fingers. He extended his hand and opened his fingers to reveal a half-opened rose. Its fragrance immediately surrounded them.

The Doctor took Tegan's wrist and placed the flower in her hand, cupping her fingers gently over it as he said, "It should dry nicely, and its aroma will remain for some time."

"You took this for me?" Tegan lifted the rose with some surprise.

He nodded in acknowledgement and granted her a small, affectionate smile.

"Thank you," she whispered as he walked out of the room.

----------

The Doctor found Turlough leaning against the wall in the console room. He seemed slightly ill at ease still. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his brow was creased. The rose's effects on him had apparently been fleeting.

"Is there something you need?" asked the Doctor.

Turlough looked up. "No."

The Doctor shifted his gaze to the console, idly running his fingers over the keys. "In times of war," he said simply, "people are often forced to do things they would not normally consider."

Turlough did not respond, so he continued. "When regrettable things happen, they are often for the good of someone or something else."

The Doctor glanced briefly at Turlough. He was staring at his hands and did not appear to be listening.

Thus, his response surprised the Doctor.

"But that still may not make the action right."

"There are many ways to define 'right'."

Turlough appeared to consider this for a few seconds. "I suppose so." He straightened and took a few steps toward the door.

The Doctor reached for Turlough's blazer. It hung on the coatrack, abandoned temporarily in the heat of the late afternoon sunshine.

"Don't forget this," the Time Lord said, grasping the garment.

As Turlough reached for it, the Doctor's fingers brushed against the pocket. Turlough donned the jacket, straightening the collar and smoothing the hem automatically. As he walked out the door, a faint, sweet smell drifted upward from the rose petals the Doctor had left in his pocket.

----------


End file.
